Best birthday party ever!

Oh I just have to tell you all about Human Granny's birthday lunch.

You can imagine how honoured I felt to be invited along to join the party. We went to this tip top restaurant called Biondi Bistro, by Gunthorpe Lock. You can eat outside in a nicely sheltered courtyard area, so it's both dog and granny friendly. Perfect!

Look, here I am with, left to right, Human Granny, Gail, her brother Max and my smart and pretty human cousin Annabel.

That Biondi Bistro is the classiest of classy joints should be clear when you see who was at the table next to us.

Yes, not just one but TWO fellow wire fox terriers!

Handsome pups aren't they?

And all three of us were super well behaved, we really were!

PS Don't forget to stop by for the Pawlympics Munro Bagging event on Tuesday. Honestly, I am ready for a break from what Gail will insist on calling the 'real' Olympics. I mean, I ask you, just what is so interesting anyway about watching humans pedalling their bicycles round and round in circles for, seemingly, ever and ever...?

Best birthday party ever!

Oh I just have to tell you all about Human Granny's birthday lunch.

You can imagine how honoured I felt to be invited along to join the party. We went to this tip top restaurant called Biondi Bistro, by Gunthorpe Lock. You can eat outside on a nicely sheltered patio area, so it's both dog and granny friendly. Perfect!

Look, here I am with, left to right, Human Granny, Gail, her brother Max and my smart and pretty human cousin Annabel.

That Biondi Bistro is the classiest of classy joints should be clear when you see who was at the table next to us.

Yes, not just one but TWO fellow wire fox terriers!

Handsome pups aren't they?

And all three of us were super well behaved, we really were!

PS Don't forget to stop by for the Pawlympics Munro Bagging event on Tuesday. Honestly, I am ready for a break from what Gail will insist on calling the 'real' Olympics. I mean, I ask you, just what is so interesting about watching humans pedalling their bicycles round and round in circles for, seemingly, ever and ever...?

PAWLYMPICS: 'Munro Bagging' Explained

Is everyone else as excited as me about the forthcoming Blogville Pawlympics? Oh I am so grateful to Arty, Lexi and Christmas for organising this wonderful sporting festival. 

Those of you who have already seen the Pawlympics Schedule might have noticed that I am down to host an event on August 16th, and some, I know, are wondering what 'Munro Bagging' involves and how you can enter. 

All is explained below:  

Munro Bagging (aka Scottish Mountain Climbing)

This event is one for the adventurous pups (or those who aspire to be).

Background information: In Scotland, a hill over 3000 ft high is called a 'Munro'. There are 283 Munros. If you climb one you are said to have 'bagged a Munro'. 

To take part in the event, each contestant needs to do just two things:

(1) Choose a Munro the dog (or cat, or other pet) would like to climb, from the official list:  http://www.climbthemunros.co.uk/munro_list.htm*

(2) Send an email to bouncing(dot)bertie(at)outlook(dot)com stating your name, your blog's name, and your chosen Munro (only one Munro per pet allowed), along with a photo of the dog/cat/other. 

You can create your own picture of yourself at the summit of your chosen Munro, or you can trust to Gail's somewhat rudimentary PiZap photo editing skills and she will attempt to place you on your selected mountain in an appropriately heroic stance. You may wish to consider appropriate attire for mountain adventures in Scotland and dress accordingly in the photo you submit. 

All the pictures, with fitting captions, will be posted on my blog on the day of the event. In this contest every entrant will be a winner, but a gold medallist will be chosen according to an obscure and wholly undemocratic a totally fair set of rules which I shall make up on the day devised according to principles wholly in line with the ethos of the Blogville Pawlympic movement (which I can assure you involves a lot less corruption and doping than the human's equivalent event….)

THE DEADLINE FOR ENTRIES IS SUNDAY 31 JULY

*Hints on choosing a Munro: you are free to use whatever strategy you prefer.  You may select one at random from the list or research the issue yourself in depth. Perhaps you will go for a mountain that you might be named after (I am thinking of a particular Scottie in Australia), although dogs called Ben will be spoilt for choice. It is important to note that the precise height of your chosen Munro will not impact your success in the contest. Any explanations of your selection criteria will be noted and read with interest and may be used the caption accompanying the photo. 

From Cloud Nine to Cloudberries

Things started a bit slowly chez Bertie on Sunday morning. Gail had been glued to the telly the night before, awestruck by the sight of some other humans running and jumping and throwing things about down at the Olympics in London.

So I bounced up on her bed reminded her that no-one gets a body like Jessica Ennis by lying horizontal all morning, and that anyway she'd promised me we'd go on a cloudberry hunt today.

Now to be honest with you, although Gail can get excited about picking what apparently is a rare delicacy, I personally am not to fussed about berries of any description. My interest was only sparked when I learned that to find a cloudberry in NE Scotland you have to climb up to about 2000 ft and then you also need a bog, and well, that sounds like a mighty fine walk doesn't it, especially the boggy bit....

Anyway, before too long we'd driven forty miles inland and were climbing a hill called Morven. From on high, I surveyed the scene.


Of course, being Scotland, it didn't take long to locate a boggy area...


I veered off the track and went to investigate.


"Look Gail, see the little red thing, is that when we're after?"


"Let's have a closer look."


Well apparently this was a cloudberry, and I was dead chuffed with myself, until Gail told me that the red berries are not yet ripe and that we needed to find some golden orange coloured ones.

So I bounced around the bog a bit more, until I spotted this.


And for once Gail was delighted and full of praise. "Perfect Bertie just perfect, this is even more exciting than the Olympics".

Well, readers might have their own opinion about THAT.

Now Gail is telling me all about how cloudberries have a unique and intense flavour and are chock full of vitamins and anti-oxidants and stuff and so are super-healthy. 

But I have my doubts that the dessert she made when we got home, based on a Norwegian recipe (whipped cream, sugar and just a sprinkling of the precious cloudberries) was going to help her perform like Jessica Ennis any time soon. 

Celebrating our Low Carbon Pawprint Olympics

Deccy's 'Tuneful Farting' contest today has set me to thinking.

About greenhouse gas emissions. Yes, we're back to science again. Hooray! Us Olympians must remember to exercise the brain too...

Well of course, I know you know that the average fart is 80% methane. And that methane is twenty five times more potent a greenhouse gas than carbon dioxide.

See how I did my bit to counter the potential climate impact of Deccy's particular sport.



But, wind aside, it occurs to me that the Blogville Olympics could teach the London Games a thing or two about saving the planet*.

Look at it this way.

Did we dogs and cats require some huge heated 50 m pool for our Swimming event? We did not. For example, a paddling pool scarcely bigger than a saucer sufficed for our dear friend Lorenza.

In the Cultural Olympiad, did we need oil-based or synthetic paints, or otherwise artificial materials? No, of course we didn't. All the masterpieces in Jazzi's 'Window Nose Art' contest were created using an entirely natural and self-generated substance...

Were special high energy diets required for Synchronised Snoozing and Couch Potato Peeling? Don't be ridiculous.

And then, how much aviation fuel did we burn up travelling to our events? Again, the answer is none, not one single milligram. Aided by Mayor Frankie's awesome organisational abilities, and the marvel that is the world wide web (hats off to Sir Tim Berners-Lee) we have come together from all over the world to enjoy a packed programme of magnificent events, all without the need to venture further than a Cross Neighbourhood Walkabout.

So step aside, organisers of the London Olympics, the games sponsored by companies ultimately responsible for the Deepwater Horizon and Bhopal disasters, we citizens of Blogville can hold our heads up high and award ourselves Gold for the greenest of games, friendly in the environmental and all other senses.

If only I lived with a human capable of designing a medal.

And if only Global Warming would make it up to Scotland...



*OK, yes, 'saving the planet' is a dumb expression, isn't it? As all geologists know, the planet will survive perfectly well for the foreseeable future, as, incidentally will the microbes. It's just us dogs and humans I'm worried about here.

Update: Olympics Bouncing and Other Stuff

Friends,

First, the Olympics! Just a reminder to keep the entries for the Bouncing (narrative style) event coming in. I am already bouncing off the walls with delight at the ones I've seen so far, they are all brilliant! Remember that it's your WORDS about Bouncing - not photos - that I'm looking for here. Entries to be emailed to soi718(AT)abdn(DOT)ac(DOT)uk. For full details of the event, click here.

Secondly, on the Boffin* front, don't worry, I haven't forgotten about my promised Science of Human Behaviour post! Thank you so much for your fascinating contributions. It is taking longer than I anticipated to synthesise all the data, but I shall have answers for you, er, in due course....

Thirdly, my assistant Gail will be away for the next few days. Most inconvenient from an Olympics perspective I must say. So if you have sent in a 'Bouncing' entry but have not yet received a polite acknowledgement, well that is 'cos a certain person has gone swanning off to visit friends in Switzerland and is ignoring her computer. (Don't worry about me though, I am staying at home and being cared for by Gail's friend Marie-Thérèse, and am hoping to be spoilt rotten...)

Toodle pip!
Bertie.

*Wasn't it just SO EXCITING about the Higgs Boson!

Relaxing at the cottage before the Big Olympic Event

The Torridon Olympics: false claims exposed

By Loch an Eion, after an unplanned dip in the burn

I can't tell you how often I've heard Gail going on about how she was some sort of a sprinter, back in the day.

Well last weekend I decided it was time to put these claims to the test. After all, the London Olympics will soon be upon us, and I fear that white-skinned fiftysomething females are currently under-represented in the Team GB 100 meters squad.

Let me describe the two trials, conducted in the vicinity of Loch Torridon:

1. On the stalkers path from Annat to Loch an Eion. I wanted to check if Gail could run as fast as me when I was attempting to chase a red deer stag up a steep incline through the heather. Result:

Gold Medal: the Stag
Silver Medal: Bertie
Bronze Medal: Gail

2. On the gently sloping road up from the side gate of the Wester Alligin cottage to a small enclosure 200m away, where some sheep were grazing peacefully. If I slipped out though the gate (when carelessly left ajar), could Gail reach me before I reached the sheep? Result:

Gold Medal: Donnie the crofter who erected the sheep enclosure's terrier-proof fence
Silver Medal: Bertie
Bronze Medal: Gail

Oh dear Gail. Those legs of yours aren't quite as fast as you like to think, are are they?

Never mind. We're still pals, eh?

At rest in front of our cottage, besides Hamish's memorial stone