Birthday Special Scones!

Today we are celebrating my 11th birthday, while Gail is also fondly remembering my predecessor Hamish the Westie, whose life came to and end on the very same day that mine began.

And what better way to mark the occasion than for Gail to bake me some ultra-scrumptious Haggis and Cheese Scones*!

In a subtle nod to one of Hamish's most famous exploits, Gail served me the scones on the Nottingham lace tablecloth she inherited from Human Granny and Grandad. 

[You might remember also that I once staged a re-enactment of the 'Hamish trashes HGY's scones and  smears jam all over the lace tablecloth' episode...]

PS from Gail: huge thanks to our cycling friend Muriel for alerting me to this most deliciously Scottish scone recipe! 

Can you believe I'm nine years old today?

I'll be honest with you. Given my human's woeful record on gift giving I have learned to moderate my expectations when it comes to my birthdays. So when I woke first thing this morning I saw little point in bouncing out of bed in a frenzy of anniversary excitement.

It was a pleasant surprise then, when I came down into the kitchen and was presented with a 'special package'.

Look look, a new friend! She is a snow leopard called Sophia, and she has a very satisfactory squeaker.

Snow leopards do like having their tales tugged, don't they?

Ooooh but wait, I can smell something else too in the bottom of the bag.

OMG OMG OMG Gail has baked me some special super tasty ox liver cookies!

I think I am going to enjoy my 9th birthday.

How I would love to share these delicious liver treats with all my precious readers (except the vegetarian ones, of course). Sadly, cyberspace has not yet evolved to permit the direct distribution of offal based snacks on line, but Gail has kindly agreed to provide the recipe, which was loosely based on something she found when googling liver-dog-cookies-recipe.

 1 1/2  cups pureed cooked ox liver, 3 tbsp olive oil, 2 cups wholewheat flour, 1 cup rolled oats, 2 carrots (grated), 1/2 cup beef stock, 1 egg (beaten).

Mix together all the ingredients, knead until smooth, roll out and cut into required shapes. Gail did stars because she says I am a star, and bones because, well DUH, I'm a dog!

Bake at 180ºC for about 30 minutes. Allow to cool, and present to your beloved pup on his 9th birthday.

PS Gail says the process of puree-ing cooked ox liver is not for the faint-hearted, but she persisted, "just this once, because you're worth it Bertie".

I am eight!

It is my misfortune to live with a human who is in general totally useless at birthday celebrations.

So yesterday I reached the grand age of eight years old and all I got was a rawhide bone, pigs ears and Dentastix (like a toothcare product counts as a present?) plus a quiet domestic night in Nottingham with Gail, her lovely friend Janet and Janet's lovely young friend Helen.

In fairness, Gail was tired after all the running around after Human Granny, Helen was tired 'cos she's at that stressful stage of writing up her Physics PhD thesis, Janet was tired after her recent influx of visitors, and I was a bit below par 'cos my paw problem has flared up again.

Well I must say I found Janet's piano playing most beautifully mellifluous and soothing. And now I understand why Gail is so modest about her own lack of talent in this area.

And then there were wonderful smells emanating from the kitchen where Helen was relaxing by cooking a delicious (although from my perspective disappointingly vegetarian) sweet potato chilli supper for the humans.

The highlight of the evening came just before bedtime, when Janet introduced me to a blissfully yummy new treat - sliced pear.

More please!

All in all not such a bad way to celebrate one's birthday, I suppose.

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...?

Now We Are Six

When I was One,
I had just begun.

When I was Two,
I was nearly new.

When I was Three,
I was hardly me.

When I was Four,
I was not much more.

When I was Five,
I was just alive.

But now I am Six, I'm as clever as clever.
So I think I'll be Six now for ever and ever.

from 'NOW WE ARE SIX' by A.A.Milne.


Yes that's right, it's my birthday today. Yippee! Oh and it's going to be just the bestest of days!

Gail is taking me down to Nottingham on the train to visit Human Granny.

We will be away for a few days and may not be spending much time near a computer. But before I go I must show you this wonderful 'bouncing frog' card that arrived yesterday, all the way from Raleigh, North Carolina.


Isn't it fun? And look what it says inside.


Thank you so much Madi (and your kind and lovely Mom). You have made me feel really special.

Oh and one last thing. The wee poem at the top of this post comes from 'Now We Are Six', a collection of verse by 'Winnie the Pooh' author A.A. Milne. Human Granny was given the book by her 'Mummie and Daddy' on her sixth birthday, in 1936. Later, in the 1960's HGY used to read to it Gail when Gail was just a wee pup.


So I like it that Gail read me this special poem on my sixth birthday, although (between you and me) I am rather hoping for some treats too when we get to Nottingham.

Festive Quantum Robins

Bouncing Bertie Boffin, Scientific Advisor to Blogville here!

It has been brought to my attention that this blog has been lacking in intellectual and scientific rigour of late, and so today I aim to redress the balance. In a suitably seasonal and dog relevant fashion, of course.

Maybe, like dear, clever YAM-Aunty, you already knew that today, 14th December, is considered as the 'Birthday of Quantum Physics'. It was on this day in 1900 when the German physicist Max Planck first proposed that energy emitted by a radiating system is not continuous but rather it comes in discrete packages, or 'quanta'.

I wonder also how many of you have received Christmas cards with pictures of robins this year? Perhaps you have had opportunity to bark at a robin, newly arrived in your garden after escaping the harsh Arctic winter?

OK, so I realise some you are now thinking "Bertie Boffin, poor chap, has totally gone off his rocker this time. I'm afraid he has been imbibing too much 'festive spirit'. What on earth do migrating robins have to do with quantum physics?"

Fellow pups, let me explain.

Now, since well before the days of satnav, scientists have been pondering the question of how birds navigate when they migrate long distances, especially across oceans where landmarks are few and far between. You might think this field of study would be the domain of the biologist, but in fact one answer came in recent years from some very clever experiments by physicists. These experiments led to an understanding of how the robin uses certain esoteric quantum effects to detect changes in the angle of the earth's magnetic field and thus to figure out which way is north*.

It all happens when a small package of light (a photon) reaches a special protein (cytochrome) found in the eye of the robin. The photon causes an electron to be expelled from the cytochrome. The hole is then filled with one of a quantum entangled electron pair such that a superposition of singlet/triplet states is created in the pair (yes, in the world of quantum physics, electrons can be 'superposed' in two states at the same time, with no problem at all - think of it like the state your human is in when you have done something bad, but also funny, and they are cross and laughing at the same time). Anyway the point is, that the laughing but also cross electron can easily tipped towards one or the other state, depending on the tilt of the earth's magnetic field, which is of course latitude sensitive. (In the same way that, if your human is still in the angry-but-amused state, and you tilt your head at a certain angle, this might impel your human to smile and forget all about shouting at you).

I am sure it is quite clear now, how robins find their way to your mantlepiece at Christmas, and so we would all like to say 'Happy Birthday' to quantum physics, and to salute the great founding fathers** of this weird and wonderful branch of science.

Niels Bohr and Albert Einstein ponder the mysteries of quantum physics

*Note we are talking about the European robin here, smaller and cuter the American so-called robin, which I believe is actually a thrush!

**Max Planck, Albert Einstein, Niels Bohr, Werner Heisenberg, Wolfgang Pauli, Erwin Schrödinger, Louis de Broglie, Max Born, Paul Dirac.

PS from Gail: this post was inspired the book 'Life on the Edge: The Coming of Age of Quantum Biology' by Jim Al-Khalili and Johnjoe Mcfadden. A recommended Christmas read for those who like their popular science to be a tiny bit challenging!

The best birthday present.

So Gail comes bouncing down the stairs this morning.

"Happy Birthday Bertie! I can't believe you are five years old already. And guess what, I have the BEST EVER birthday present for you."

I wait politely, slightly surprised (based on past experience), that she has actually remembered it is my birthday. Given that Gail is also the world's least imaginative present giver, I have no great hopes of scoring the sort of birthday bonanza that many of my blogging pals might confidently expect.

"Bertie, can you imagine? Human Granny is coming out of hospital today. She is going to a rehabilitation facility now for a few weeks, where they will try to get her walking again. isn't that just brilliant news? Not so long ago we were thinking she wouldn't survive her illness."

"Better yet, I think you might even be allowed to visit her once she has settled in. Won't that be fun?"

Well of course I am thrilled that Human Granny is getting better and that I might see her again soon.

But it's not so very selfish, is it, to hope for something just a wee bit more, er, tangible in the way of a gift on one's fifth birthday?

I give Gail my best expectant look.

"OK Bertie, and now we are off for a walk to the local Co-op store. I think a celebratory meal of liver and bacon is in order for tonight, don't you?"

That's more like it.

HGD birthday report

Well I am happy to report that HGD remembered how to smile for the camera on his 92nd birthday.

Human Granny and I supervise the present opening

Human Grandad and son Max enjoy a birthday beer

But sad to report that he took a bad turn later in the day, and is now in hospital and very poorly indeed.

Big paws crossed for HGD.

Something new every journey..

 Enjoying a wee break by Edinburgh Castle, en route to Nottingham.

Such fun!

Oh gosh I do love travelling by train. You never know what is going to happen, and which lovely people you are going to meet.

Oh and by the way, I know that in the past there have been some adventures that Gail has - wrongly in my view - classified as misdemeanours, but these days I have learned that it all goes better if I concentrate more on the happy smiles and less on the barking and the escapology. So it was on Friday.


At Edinburgh, a lively group of young men came and sat just along the carriage from us. You could see they were well organised.

"Right, poker players round one table, drinkers round the other" said their top dog chappie as they were forcing their bags precariously into the overhead luggage space.


Although I did later notice that in fact they all were making use of the crate of beer they'd brought along.

Now look at me here!


Oh I can't tell you how grown up and, well, masculine I felt when I was invited to join the poker party.

But Gail says I shall have to work on my 'poker face'. And tail.

??

PS I know you all want to hear about HGD. Well he is 'semi-settled' in his new home, and still gives Gail a HUGE smile whenever he sees her. I am going to be allowed to visit later today. Yippee! 

Jke's birthday party

So I was all set to bed down on Wednesday evening after a tough session at Agility, when Gail clipped on my lead and said "look sharp Bertie,we're going to a party".

I had almost forgotten that my flat-coated retriever neighbour Jake's was six today. And  I couldn't believe my flappy little ears when Gail said that I was invited to the birthday celebration too.

Really, Gail is always running across the street and coming back with mouth-watering reports of meals cooked for her by Jake's Mum, a vibrant, friendly lady whose Jewish mothering instincts are delightfully well developed in all matters pertaining to food. Sadly all too often I am left home alone on the grounds that "two intact male dogs in a confined space is not a harmonious combination", apparently. Something about an excess of testosterone.

Talking of which, does having a Jewish mum make Jake Jewish too? And if so, quite how intact should he be....?


Well discretion being the better part of valour, I decided not to inspect Jake's nether regions too closely. After all he is a lot bigger than me.

And anyway there was a most delicious smell coming from the kitchen counter.


Sadly, Jake's birthday muffins were only for the humans.



Oh and in case you are thinking that Jake's Mum's spelling does not match up to her cooking, I should explain that one of her human offspring had gobbled up the 'A' muffin earlier.

Despite the disappointing lack of dog treats,  Jake and I had a most companionable time. I only growled at him once.



I also explained to Jake that I'd bought a stuffed fox for his birthday 'cos I felt a bit sorry for him, not being a fox terrier and all, and how I thought perhaps having his very own fox to tear apart, or even just to retrieve (so boring), would be the next best thing.

True to form, silly Gail of course forgot to take any photos of my so carefully chosen gift.

PS Gail would like to apologise in advance for any offence caused by Bertie's sketchy understanding of Jewish cultural practices. After all, he is only a dog. 

The ungrateful birthday boy

I'm three years old today you know.

When Gail told me yesterday we were going to 'Pet Comforts', our favourite Aberdeen pet shop by far, to buy me a fox for my birthday, I was so excited. Finally, a real live fox to play with! Surely a three year old wire-haired fox terrier is entitled to no less?

Slowly the truth dawned...


It turned out that this was what she had in mind.

Oh well, one can always pretend.

PS from Gail: as some of you know, Bertie was born on exactly the same day that my fourteen year old Westie Hamish died. So many fond memories. I make no apology for re-posting my last ever photo of the dear chap.

Special privileges

Oh thank you Gail for letting me snuggle up on your bed, for once. And yes I do think that I deserve special treatment and also that you owe me an explanation. How come you disappeared off down to Nottingham for three days and I was consigned to what you euphemistically refer to as 'camp'?

Well Bertie, if I'd have been going for longer I certainly would have braved taking you with me on the train, but time was short and I thought it simpler to leave you up here while I was down with my family celebrating my Dad's 91st birthday.

WHAT!!!? This can't be true! Tell me you're joking. HGD had a birthday party and I wasn't invited? I feel a major tantrum coming on...

Just calm down and stop bouncing on me Bertie. Please. HGD is a bit old for parties now, and anyway he has outlived nearly all his friends. You didn't miss anything very exciting, believe me. 

So then. All the more reason for me to have been there to liven things up a bit. You know I am very skilled at that. Well, perhaps you will have some photos I can post on my blog, at least.

I'm sorry Bertie. HGD had another fall on Friday and now has a bit of a black eye so it didn't seem right to take any pictures. He did ask after you though, and he was disappointed you weren't around. And of course I missed you dreadfully, especially during those 'family moments' when it is so convenient to be able to say "I think the dog needs a walk". I promise you will be coming with me at Christmas, my sanity may depend on it. So can we be friends again now?

Hmmm. Well OK then. Oh and, by the way, it is true that therapy dogs are paid with extra mince pie rations......? 

Time to put away puppyish things?

"When I was a child, I spoke as a child, I understood as a child, I thought as a child: but when I became a man, I put away childish things."


This is a serious, sober and grown-up post. I hope you can tell.

You see, it was my second birthday yesterday. I’ll show you some pictures of the my presents another time (i.e. when Gail has found the card reader for the camera) but for the moment we shall pause to reflect upon what it means for a dog when he reaches that age at which he is considered fully mature.

In fact I have been issued with a set of instructions as to how the adult wire-haired fox terrier is supposed to conduct himself. It is a lengthy and frankly rather intimidating list.  Apparently, at two years old, one can no longer excuse one’s misdemeanours as mere puppyish pranks.  It is expected that henceforth one’s behaviour will be impeccable. For example:

• Chewing activities are restricted to designated toys and dog food.  
• One will not jump up at humans unless explicitly invited.
• Commands will be obeyed at all times, instantaneously.
• In particular, one should be able to comprehend the meaning of every part of the word ‘NO!’
• Rolling is only permitted on odour-free surfaces, and hole digging in the garden is banned except in the designated corner. 
• One will submit to one’s human’s cack-handed grooming efforts without complaint.
• Small and timorous dogs met in the park will not be terrorised, and bigger dogs will be treated with due respect.
• One must remember that sheep are for growing future woolly sweaters or providing Sunday roasts accompanied by mint sauce; they are not for chasing across the hillsides.
• Barking in the car is a thing of the past.
• As is ‘mad hour’ – that period of the day when one feels compelled to rush around the house, bouncing on and off the furniture and walls and randomly trying to grab in one’s jaw any available human limb …
• ...

Oh dear. The list goes on and on. And on. 


I am going to find this being grown-up business awfully difficult.

Yes you may wish me a (belated) Happy Birthday.

A letter to my breeders on my first birthday

To: Calum and Mairi Grant
Grandddach Kennels
near Turriff
Aberdeenshire
Scotland.

18th February 2011

Dear Calum and Mairi,

Gail has suggested that I could demonstrate what a well brought up pup I am by writing to you on my First Birthday and saying thank you for starting me off in life so well, and to let you know how I am getting on.

She also thought you might like to see some recent photos. I am a bit worried that you might think my coat looks rather shaggy. All I can say is that it does get brushed almost every day, but we are waiting for warmer weather before the hand-stripping starts again in earnest!

As you can see, I have grown to be a fairly tall and slender laddie, and the patch on my back is distinctive in shape and still quite black. I weighed 15 lb at Christmas, but I think I have put on a bit since then.  When we are out and about in Aberdeen, lots of people stop Gail to say what a handsome chap I am, with such fine markings.

I am a quick learner and it took no time at all for me to figure out that the toilet is outdoors. I easily mastered all that 'sit' 'stay' and 'come' stuff (did you know I won the 'longest sit' competition at puppy class?)  OK I admit it took me a little while longer to comprehend the meaning of 'NO' although the introduction of a 'sin bin' - otherwise the downstairs cloakroom - hastened the learning process. I do still love chewing things, but I have more or less got over my obsession with human feet. I'm afraid Gail has still not quite forgiven me for the cashmere sweater incident....

Good job that you got me used to travelling in the car when I was a very wee pup. I love going on trips with Gail and I have never ever been car sick. In fact, touch wood (that's what humans say, isn't it?) I haven't ever been sick at all; my only trips to the vets have been for vaccinations and a microchip.

I'm so glad that I went to live in a home with a fit and active human who likes taking me for lengthy walks in all sorts of interesting places where I can run free. You have no idea how much energy I have! (Oh, you do, apparently...)

Right from the start, I've always been adventurous and bold and not easily intimidated, although I have now learned that there are just a few very grumpy dogs around, and it is wise to steer clear of them. Gail sometimes tells me off for bullying tiny dogs, but, between you and me, I think the problem is she has difficulty telling the difference between exuberance and aggression!

So anyway, I think that's enough news from me. I have presents to open!  Oh, and Gail has baked me - or rather herself, I suspect - a special birthday cake* (see below).

I do hope all my terrier friends and relatives back at Granddach Kennels are doing well, and wish Oscar the best of luck at Crufts later this year!

Lots of love,
Granddach Beinn Alligin (aka Bertie).

*Thank you too to the Mama of my American sweetheart Katie, for sending Gail the cake instructions. She (Gail) did her best!


PS I believe there is some sort of a birthday party going on this weekend! To find out more, visit Asta or Lacie...