Bertie's Christmas Message

If “bumpy” best describes your year,
Like the Queen's, and you wish things were merrier,

Here’s a message of hope and good cheer

From your favourite wire-haired fox terrier…

What do I do when I see a bump?

Do I halt in my tracks? No, no, no! 

I bounce and I skip and I jump,

And joyfully onwards I go! 

If your road this year has been smooth,

Then pause and give thanks, you are blessed.

To ALL friends, Happy Christmas to you,

And I wish you peace, love, and the rest.

A corgi cushion: adventures at Balmoral

I'll be honest with you. I was a bit alarmed when Gail suggested yesterday that we take our lovely young (but camera shy) visitor Helen, who is up from England for a few days holiday, for a walk around Ballochbuie Forest.

Why the alarm?

Let me explain.

Ballochbuie Forest is part of the Balmoral Estate, and it is well known that through August our Royal Family take up residence at their Scottish home. And although we understand that the Duke of Edinburgh, age 98, has finally agreed to turn in his driving licence, one suspects he might still have access to his Land Rover keys, and be tempted to go for the occasional wee spin around the forest tracks on his private territory.

But it was a pleasantly warm day, and the threatened rain never materialised, and so despite the danger of near-centenarian drivers, we three all headed up through the forest, past the waterfalls, aiming for Gail's favourite lunch spot on the front steps of a secluded wooden chalet, hidden in a hollow among ancient Scots pines and heather.

In retrospect we should have realised the game was up when we approached the usually deserted chalet and saw smoke rising from the chimney. And even more so when we passed by a 4WD vehicle in which was sat a hefty chap wearing a suit and tie and shades, and a stony faced young lady in 'country tweeds'.

But ignoring all this, Gail and Helen made for the chalet steps and started unpacking their picnic lunch (in which of course I took a close interest). But no soon as the squashed cheese sandwiches had seen the light of day than the tweedy lady approached and, awfully politely but quite firmly (us pups recognise these nuances of human communication) said we all had to move away from the chalet, as "visitors" were about to arrive. Oh yes, and could we please eat our lunch somewhere out of sight?

As Gail, ever the obedient subject(!) made to move, the lady opened the chalet door, and I seized the opportunity to enter. What did I see inside? A table laid for four, logs glowing in the wood-burning stove, and on the sofa a cushion decorated with a picture of a corgi.

I was politely but firmly ejected before I had time to investigate further.

As we ate our lunch a discreet distance away up this hill - I was given a pig's ear to chew - we spotted another large black 4WD vehicle heading towards the chalet.

A few minutes later, we heard a dog barking.

I'll swear it was a corgi.

The walk ended with a refreshing sip from the River Dee, and relief that we had arrived back safely...

Lucky Doyle, and an encounter with Camilla

This is Doyle.

He must be among the world's luckiest dogs.

His owner Fiona is a Ranger on the Queen's Balmoral Estate, and he accompanies her to work every day. As far as I can gather from Gail, this means he spends his days romping around the forests and hills, or being driven along the estate tracks in the front seat of Fiona's Land Rover.

Gail met Doyle last Friday when she and another volunteer spent the day working with Fiona on a conservation project, measuring the extent of patches of a rare plant called Twinflower.

Although it is not obvious to me that there is anything so special about the tiny pinky-white bell shaped twinflowers,  I must say I was pretty miffed at being left behind in Aberdeen - apparently on the basis that I might be a "disruptive presence". Me, disruptive? Can you imagine?

So I had to make do with looking at Gail's photos.

I was most disappointed that Gail did not capture on camera the day's most interesting event, when the plant monitoring party came across Camilla, Duchess of Cornwall, walking her Jack Russell terrier along one of the forest tracks.

Apparently Camilla gave them a friendly smile and a wave (I guess she's had plenty of practice at that).

After any encounter with a member of the Royal Family, it is of course obligatory to report on their attire, and so I demanded to know what Camilla, our future Queen, was wearing.

Was Gail kidding me when she described "a muddy pair of leggings, a battered Barbour jacket and one of those plastic rain bonnets that fold away concertina style - the sort I was embarrassed to see my mother wearing in the 1960s..." ??

PS Gail did take me for a nice muddy walk in the hills this morning, so the earlier abandonment is forgiven.

So nearly a brush with royalty

If Gail and her friends Yvonne and Neil had bothered to get going earlier on Sunday morning we would have arrived at Balmoral Castle in time to see the Queen attend the local church service.

Instead we were met at the car park at noon by a conspicuous security presence, although I must say that the young policeman we spoke to was all smiles and friendliness, enjoying the warm sunshine and seemingly not at all worried that our party constituted a terrorist threat.

Gosh it's a lovely place, the Balmoral estate. 

After romping around the forest and enjoying the fine views of Upper Deeside we approached the castle and were surprised to find the grounds still open to the public despite the Queen being in residence*.

In the café I met this lovely young lady called Steph, who has taken a summer job on the estate.  Can you see the smart Balmoral insignia on her apron? 

After giving me a biscuit and a nice pat, she told us how a couple of days ago she actually met with the Queen. I hope I am not going to get Steph sent to the Tower of London when I tell you she described her employer as "funny and really quite sassy".

Which made me feel even more sorry that I did not run into Her Majesty, as it's clear we have much in common (notwithstanding her well-documented preference for corgis). And no doubt Queen Liz too will now be regretting she missed the chance to have her picture taken alongside me and posted on this blog!

*Gail says: apparently the Queen is staying in a smaller house in the grounds of the estate, away from the visiting public. 

I can't believe she didn't buy me some...

...of these sausages.

Yes, that's right, Gail looked inside the meat cabinet in the farm shop, took a photo and then came home with just blue cheese and yoghurt.

Tragic.

Oh, and I guess you would like to see a few pictures from my weekend walk up Craigendarroch, a steep wee hill just outside Ballater.

Looking beyond Ballater to the Balmoral estate, where the Queen too must be fretting about the future of her realm.

 

Why Human Granny is nicer than the Queen

Today's title caught your attention didn't it?

I am hoping that Gail is right about disloyal subjects no longer being locked in the Tower of London.

But really. Did you read in the papers about the latest spat in our royal household? How poor Lupo, Prince William and Princess Kate's cocker spaniel puppy, was banned by the Queen from joining the traditional family Christmas gathering at Sandringham.

What cruelty!

I do hope the mother-in-law / daughter-in-law relationship will survive.

It made me realise how lucky I am here in Nottingham, being welcomed with open arms by Human Granny for an extended stay every Christmas. She even puts up with my huge poodle cousins Percy and Coco dropping in from time to time.

Now I understand Her Majesty was concerned that her precious (and reputedly bad-tempered) corgis might take umbrage at an energetic interloper. There was apparently an earlier incident between them and Princess Beatrice's Norfolk terrier.

Really, it does not inspire confidence when one's Head of State cannot keep the peace in her own palace. She needs to take control, and tell those spoilt and stuck up corgis to behave.

These days when I am faced with bossy or otherwise irritating newcomers, I turn the other cheek and walk away.

You would have thought that dogs belonging to one who is also the Supreme Governor of the Church of England would have been taught to do the same, wouldn't you?