My tiny paw was frozen

[A conversation in Duthie Park this morning between Bertie and his schnauzer pal Frankie.]

Hi there Frankie, how's things?

Och, nae bad Bertie. Did I catch sight of you shivering in the park last night?

You most certainly did. I escorted Gail and her friend Kirsty down to the open air screening of La Bohème. Really, I would have preferred to be have been inside at Royal Opera House, wouldn't you? So much for heat waves! At least one did not have to suspend disbelief during all that singing about living in an icy Parisian garret. My tiny paws were frozen! But how come I didn't see you?

Well Bertie that's because my owner Maggie thoughtfully brought along a blanket and allowed me to snuggle under with her.

No such luck for me Frankie. Gail did remember her woolly hat, but even then we were both so cold we left before the end.

Hmm. I'm wondering what's Covent Garden's policy about letting dogs inside the Opera House? After all, they do lay great stress on not being elitist these days, don't they?

Interesting point Frankie. So how much does a train ticket to London cost....? 

Early morning cold weather tip

When you spy the snow plough coming towards you in Duthie Park...

... Move quickly 'cos the driver thinks he's Lewis Hamilton.

But in normal circumstances, I like to take my time over the early morning park circuit. Why rush when all that achieves is to bring forward the hour when your human abandons you to go to work?

And when, as yesterday, new snow has fallen, adding that touch of novelty to the otherwise familiar scene, there is all the more reason to linger.

I should also let you know that just at the moment I am trying, when out and about, to keep my distance from Gail. As would you if your owner had, on the basis of a cold late February blast from Siberia, excavated from the depths of her wardrobe the outsize padded jacket she was issued two decades ago for winter wear on a Northern North Sea oil platform... (Her theory that this jacket looks OK 'cos it's the same blue as my own natty winter coat only betrays her woeful lack of fashion sense. As if the notion of dressing up all matchy matchy with your dog somehow compensates for appearing in public like a heffalump who just ate all the pies.)

Tell me, are you ever embarrassed to be seen out with your human?

The wrong decision

I thought the flooded ground was frozen solid.

I didn't realise the water was several inches deep.

I didn't stop to think before I dashed across.

And now my legs are cold and wet.

Brrrr.

P.S. Friends, thank you so much for all your wonderful and incredibly interesting contributions to my 'science of attraction' study. If you have not yet commented on what it is that you find attractive in a fellow pup, then you still can; just go to my previous post 'My new role, science and romance' (12 January 2015).

Should I be happy or sad?

Happy 'cos it's so cold and windy and rainy that Gail decided to stay in with me this morning rather than take my big rival out for a spin.

Or sad 'cos it's cold and windy and rainy so we only went for a quick walk in the park.

On the basis that one can't choose the weather but one can choose one's attitude, I have decided to be happy anyway.

PS from Gail: this post is in tribute to my dear, recently departed friend Kate, whose capacity to inspire lives on. 

Agility or 'Strictly'?

You know I thought I was there at the Loanhead Equestrian Centre yesterday morning in order to enter my first ever contest, the Devanha Dogs Just for Fun Agility Show. But when, at the start of the day, I saw the humans 'walking the course', for a moment I wondered if I'd got it all wrong and Gail was taking part in a sequins-free version of 'Strictly Come Dancing'.

Well apparently that is all part of the proceedings. I also learned there's an awful lot of hanging around at agility events. And that unheated barns in December in Aberdeenshire are very cold.

Luckily, Gail had the foresight to bring Hamish's old coat along for me (and yes, I really did use the words 'luckily' and 'coat' in the same sentence).



I think Gail was was a bit envious of the more experienced handlers who wrapped themselves in sleeping bags whilst waiting their turn. If you are thinking that she looks chilled to the marrow in this next photo, you would be right.


Oh, you are in fact wondering how I performed in the agility ring?

Well frankly, I can't understand what happened.

I mean, I was so confident I was winning, but it seems that judges have strange and narrow-minded ideas about what constitutes a faultless round.

Lots of the dogs boringly restricted themselves to running and jumping over the obstacles, so I would have thought, having demonstrated that I too was perfectly capable of clearing a couple of medium sized hurdles, that my initiative in then going off-piste to inspect the far end of the barn before resuming the 'official' route should have earned me extra points, but the judges thought differently. Likewise, running straight along the 'dog walk' is just so dull when one can demonstrate one's agility - after all that's what it's all about isn't it - by jumping from left to right and back again, several times, across the lower end of the ramp. Oh yes and lastly, having heard Gail complaining about me not sitting patiently at the start on my first two goes, on my third and final event I decided to show her how well I could sit. And sit. And sit....

After all that carry on, it was eventually time to leave, and in the car going home Gail was saying some very odd things about how maybe it was good that my performance was so "erratic" as it doesn't always do to peak too soon and thus leave no scope for improvement next time around.

"Erratic"? Surely Gail at least should recognise my unique wire-haired fox terrier brand of perfection...

At fifty seven point two degrees North ...

Yesterday afternoon, only half past three, and the river was turning pink...

Sunday, walking in the Deeside hills,  the path was all dusted with cold white powdery stuff and my paws were tingling...

And I couldn't tell where to tread...

Now which was the way to the equator?