The hundred metre exclusion zone

Bertie's 'exclusion zone'

Bertie near the boundary of the exclusion zone

Can you believe that I am sometimes criticised by my owner for "taking my house-training to the extreme"?

Well of course we all know that it is wrong to poo (or pee) inside one's home. Or other people's.

I think pee-ing in the garden is just about acceptable. And can in fact be helpful - plants might need watering (even in Aberdeen) and surely it's good to leave the occasional message warning off feline intruders.

But as for what some human's refer to as "number twos"... Well I hope you agree with me that operating an exclusion zone of 100 metre radius, centred on one's house, is appropriate and not at all unreasonable.

I understand that certain dogs rather let the side down and tolerate being turned out into the garden/yard to 'do their business' before bedtime.

Not me!

I insist on a proper walk.

And after all, a late evening stroll is good for one's human too,  don't you think?  Even if it means she has to lay down her book or turn off the telly, rouse herself from the warmth and comfort of the sofa, don the many layers of clothing required for even a short venture outdoors at this time of year and check her pockets for poo bags and a torch before accompanying me into the darkness.

Surely no owner who truly loved their dog could object to such a routine?

The gift that keeps on giving

Lately I have been worrying about what would happen if, like some other bloggers, I should ever run out of subject matter for my blog.

Gail, I regret to say, has not been taking my concerns seriously. "Will the Daily Express ever be short of stories about Princess Diana? Will conspiracy theorists ever give up on the assassination of JFK?"

Of course, my owner and I are not always of one mind when it comes to deciding which topics readers will want me to cover in my posts.

Gail says I really must tell you about what she calls "the unfortunate incident on the 'A' frame", which took place at the end of the last week's DDAC* training session in Drumforskie barn.

I can't imagine that any of you would be interested but, for the sake of domestic harmony, I have agreed to post Gail's rather poor quality cartoon of what occurred.

*Deeside Dog Agility Club

Blue poo...

Oh you should be so grateful that Gail does not always take her camera when we go out for walks.

Today, instead, we shall set the scene with a picture of me posed nicely on some newly conquered territory in Gail's study.

Now are you sitting comfortably? And have you already eaten your breakfast?

Good. For today's post is not for those of a delicate constitution. Er, how to begin?

Well, you'll have noted the reference above to 'newly conquered territory'.  Thing is, Gail has recently decided to allow me into her study during the day. The idea is that I sit quietly beside her, providing restful companionship as she busies herself at the computer reading your blogs doing her work stuff.

Yes, you'll have spotted the flaw in that plan already. We fox terriers are not noted for our quiet and restful natures. Especially not six month old WFT's. Like the Spanish conquistadors, our instinct is to explore our New Worlds, and to plunder.

And there are SO many interesting places to investigate in this study. While Gail was away in the kitchen making a coffee, I had a good old rummage around behind a pile of papers and found this long blue wooden object. It tasted just great.

I really don't know why Gail got so cross when she came back saw me chomping away. You know how humans have this habit, so rude I think, of suddenly snatching things out of your mouth? NO NO Bertie, she said, and put the remnant stump in this old tin.

Later on, at the usual time, we went out for our afternoon walk. Now I don't know about you, but I am not too keen on using the jungle out the back our pleasant garden as a toilet, and prefer to hold it all in until we are walking down the street. (No Gail, I'm sure this isn't 'oversharing'; it is germane to the story).

Well half way down the road, I stopped and arched my back in the customary fashion while Gail rustled around in her pocket for a little plastic poo bag. My action, which is usually accompanied by extravagant praise and encouragement, this time elicited from Gail a shriek they must have heard in Dundee."OH MY GOD BERTIE IT'S BLUE".

Now as you know, Gail is a scientist and normally has a healthy curiosity about natural processes. But not, apparently, on this occasion.  I have no doubt that you too, like me, are wondering, was 'it' blue all the way through, or just on the surface?

And I am disappointed to have to tell you that we will never now know.

Mmmm. Time, I think, for a little snooze.