Reconciliation…

Historic handshake between Prince Charles and Gerry Adams 19 May 2015 

Do you remember that incident last September when my neighbour, flat-coated retriever Jake, took a chunk out of my left side?

It was so scary, but you know what? Almost before Gail had time to say thank goodness he's insured, my shoulder had healed up and I was back to my usual bouncy self.

I see Jake quite often (he lives nearly opposite after all, and we both take morning constitutionals in Duthie Park) and he has been friendly enough, although I am of course a little wary around him still.

But just lately I have noticed that Jake, who is only two years older than me, has been limping and seems rather listless.

This morning Gail and I learned that he has a tumour on his leg. His humans don't know much more at the moment but it is such a worrying time for them.

Oh poor Jake, I do hope he will be OK. If Prince Charles and Gerry Adams can forgive and move on, then surely Jake and I can settle our differences too?

I would like to bounce across to Jake's house right now and give him some soothing licks, but Gail says bless your dear little terrier heart Bertie only perhaps it's best if you hold back for the moment and let me take charge of administering the hugs and cuddles.


PS Gail wonders if Prince Charles ever heard about Gerry Adams' favourite dog-related hobby? In serious times, our humans can be so trivial...

Bertie comes over all Prince Charles

So I decided it was time I had a word with the flowers in Duthie Park.

Really they seem most confused this year.

First of all I spoke to the snowdrops:

"Now look here snowdrops, what on earth are you doing still hanging around these parts?  Don't you know it's nearly the middle of April, way past your wilting time. Fancy having the cheek to still be in bloom. I mean I know you are a delightful sight in January, but now you have most certainly outstayed your welcome. And the fact that it keeps snowing is simply no excuse."

Next I addressed the crocuses:

"Well chaps I realise that if the snowdrops are still with us, then you might be thinking you have every right to stick it out here for a bit longer too. But surely you've noticed that it doesn't get dark now until past eight o'clock at night? There's even enough light for the post-work cricketers to come down to the park for a practice session. You'd get a nasty shock if one of those hard cricket balls bounced on your delicate petals wouldn't you? Time, I respectfully suggest, for you to focus your energies on next year's bulb production."

 Finally, I located some daffodils.

"Jeez, you fellows need to buck up your ideas for sure. You know that the Germans call you Osterglocken? Yes, that's right, 'Easter bells'. And when was Easter? Nearly two weeks ago. And most of you have still not shown your face to the world. I don't think our friends in Deutschland would be too impressed with your punctuality would they? OK so one or two of the more precocious amongst you have finally made an effort to get out of your bed, but it's a poor show all round I must say."

Oh. Gail is telling me that when Prince Charles talks to plants, he probably adopts a less hectoring tone, and perhaps I should consider doing the same, rather than sounding like the recently departed Mrs Thatcher (who had few fans in Scotland).

But really what can you do when Spring is so mixed up with its timing?