Overconfidence - a trait shared with HGD?

You know how I told you a few days ago that I was sure I had won the agility competition, and found it hard to understand why the judges decided otherwise?

Well Gail is saying that my problem is "over-confidence".

What's more, she claims that this trait has been evident from the start. For example when I was a wee pup I would go up to big and aggressive looking dogs and bounce all over them, confident that they would want to be my friends, even when their body language indicated just the opposite.

So I was thrilled to learn that Human Grandad has also long been seen as over-confident. Recently, when Gail was trying to dissuade him from attempting to walk further than his aged muscles would permit, he replied, in a rare moment of verbal fluency, by telling her how, when he was training to be an RAF pilot in Oklahoma, his flying instructor would tick him off for failing to recognise the limits of his ability and for attempting manoeuvres that were unwise and even dangerous.

I am so proud and happy to have HGD as a role model!

Or should that be roll model?

Florrie and Lucy - out of my league?

Oh I am so excited, although also a little apprehensive.

Excited 'cos my Westie girlfriends have sent me a letter to let me know they are back home in Aberdeen. Apprehensive 'cos, as you will see when you read their letter, they are now accustomed to a jet-setting lifestyle and I fear they will find me dull and provincial.

Here is Florrie and Lucy's letter, with photos: 

Dear Bertie,
Just a note from your friends Florrie and Lucy to let you know we are home again, back in Aberdeen. Our human Ian (we think you call him 'Oilman') has finally returned from Yemen and at long last collected us from Jon and Kate (his older son and daughter-in-law) in Guernsey where we have been living since Feb 2011. Rather than putting us in a box and leaving us sitting around for hours in airports, Ian said this time he would get Max (his younger son and now a pilot with Ryanair), to fly us home instead. It was all very exciting when Ian took us to a tiny airport and we sat in a room surrounded by little - but posh - aircraft. 

In the airport lounge

We didn't have to wait long as our aircraft arrived right outside and Max opened the door and let us all in. We were soon airborne and heading north back towards home. 

Lucy airborne

Pilot Max and proud (and not at all nervous) father Ian 

It was rather noisy, and cold (Florrie had both blankets) but before long we were landing in Liverpool and then into a car and home. We caught up on our sleep on the way, it's a good job as we finally arrived back in Aberdeen at 3.00 am. As you can see, we were soon back in our positions on the sofa having a good lookout for the local cat (also confusingly called Max). 

Florrie and Lucy home at last

It's lovely to be home, even though we sometimes miss those splendid beach walks in Guernsey, but we are after all not called West Highland Terriers for nothing! 

Florrie and Lucy back in their natural habitat

Cheerio,
Florrie and Lucy.

I had been planning, before this letter arrived, to invite 'the girls' to join me for a walk, but now I am worried that they will have grown too grand for that sort of thing. Maybe if I offered to take them round the Queen's Balmoral estate? (We could always enter at the Ballochbuie Forest end where you don't have to pay.....)

Readers, please, your ideas for how to handle this delicate social situation would be most welcome!