Feeling better already - thank you!

I guess it was all the kind messages you sent after my 'feeling very sorry for myself' post on Monday.

Anyway, I am pleased to report that my poorly paw is feeling loads better, so much so that yesterday afternoon I was able to enjoy an energetic romp around the 'Gramps' (a hilltop nature reserve on the nearby southern edge of Aberdeen, the name is a local abbreviation of Grampians and absolutely nothing to do with grandparents, you understand).

As you can see, we have been blessed with some winter sunshine here, although much of Scotland is covered in snow.

Gail says she is not sure what was going on with my paw. Initially the problem seemed to be a small cut on the underside, between the paw pads. This become infected and the vet gave me antibiotics and it all seemed to heal up nicely after a couple of days. But then a few days later, last weekend, the same paw become swollen and I was really uncomfortable and didn't want to walk at all. Gail feared one of the dreaded interdigital cysts was developing. Except perhaps it wasn't as by Tuesday I was feeling right as rain again. Paws crossed it stays that way - I had such a horrid time last winter with those evil cysts.

As a result of this latest podiatric hiccup, Gail and I have been wondering if any of our friends can recommend brands of protective boots which might help keep my precious and sensitive front paws out of trouble for the rest of this winter? As you know, I am an adventurous hiker and like to go out in all weathers, and so the boots would need to be quite rugged. (I do have a pair Trixie 'walker' shoes but they tend to slip down off my paws after I have walked a short distance and I don't really like wearing them). Oh and Gail says any boots would need to be easy to put on, which I think says more about her shortcomings than mine...

Short but sweet

So several passengers could have slipped unnoticed through the ticket barrier at Aberdeen station while two of the staff kept me entertained and another disappeared for a few minutes and came back bearing shortbread..

It is a long train journey to Nottingham. For the first part of the ride, the Edinburgh and Newcastle bound Hen Parties kept me entertained...

But after light refreshments kindly provided by Virgin trains at Newcastle (although where were the complimentary dog biscuits Mr Branson?)...

...I settled down for a wee snooze. Which Gail assures me is the best way to travel through Doncaster.

Of course I was impatient to visit Human Granny...

And we enjoyed a mutually satisfying half hour together comparing notes on poorly paws.

Then Gail spent some time - actually quite a long time - instructing HGY in use of the laughably named 'EasyCall' device linking her hearing aid to her mobile phone...

And all too soon it was time to depart.

We head home to Aberdeen tomorrow. Gosh I hope it is not too long before I visit Nottingham again.

Bertie is working hard (bless his cotton socks)

I want you to know that I have been working hard analysing the data you all so kindly provided for my Pee-hD thesis. Gosh, when I asked you to tell me how long you can go without needing a 'comfort break', for sure it was like I tapped into a full bladder of information and it all came gushing out...

I am aiming have my thesis ready to present (and defend) on Monday 21 November.

If you are wondering why I am wearing these silly socks, well it is 'cos this week  I have had another flare up of the horrid interdigital cyst problem I get from time to time. Gail is making me wear the socks indoors to stop me licking and chewing my paws.

I was limping so badly earlier in the week I even had to go to the vet. Can you believe, she actually wanted to touch my paws, despite them being ever so sore! I was prescribed some antibiotics and anti-inflammatory tablets.  By this morning my feet were feeling a bit better and I enjoyed a wee run in the park before knuckling down to my research.

In the wars

I had a wee argument with Gail, my 'owner', about the content of today's post.

You see, I wanted to tell you about some health problems I've been having lately. But Gail said that I shouldn't bore everyone with these issues as they are not too serious, and why not show some nice photos from our recent weekend in Torridon instead?

I countered that certain other members of her family never hold back when it comes to discussing their ailments at great length, so why should I be expected to behave differently?

To which Gail replied, OK Bertie, you have a point.

So we agreed a compromise. I'll tell you about my sore paws and my cough, interleaved with some images from our west coast trip.

Now, you might remember I had problems with a so-called 'interdigital cyst' on my left front paw earlier in the year. Gosh, I swallowed bucket loads of anti-biotics but it just kept getting reinfected. Later, in June, another cyst thingy appeared on my right front paw this time. It was ever so painful for a while but eventually both paws healed up.

Then a few weeks ago, same thing again, left front foot. Gail knew by now that regular post-walk soaks in chlorhexidine solution were key to keeping the sore spot from getting reinfected and it went away quite quickly this time (although Gail wants me to tell you she did sacrifice going on her annual geological field trip with her colleagues to stay home and care for me at the end of September).

Just when my feet were fine again, a new trouble, I began to cough. Occasionally at first, and then more and more often. I thought that thing whereby the vet squirts horrid stuff up your nose once a year was supposed to prevent these coughs, but it seems I got the worst of both worlds this time. And Gail was all grumpy 'cos she said I kept waking her in the night. As if it were my fault. At least she got to meet some early morning guests.

BTW, the only dogs I was allowed near while I was coughing were these rather wooden fellows we spotted in a little park by a church in Keith.

I would have liked to visit with this fellow (the dog not the skeleton) last weekend, but Gail said I must keep away.

By Monday this week I'd stopped coughing and guess what?

The next day I woke up and my left rear paw was all sore. No way was I going to put any weight on it, so I made sure Gail carried me downstairs to breakfast.

And that's how things are just now. I'm told yet another trip to the vet is in the offing...

Maol Chean-dearg - an epic mountain adventure

Frankly, if I had known it was going to be such a long and arduous hike, I would not have wasted energy tearing up the hill after those red deer near the start of the expedition. 

At least we were not in Richmond Park and there was no-one else around to witness Gail's "FENTON!!!" moment. And Gail did not film herself stumbling across the heather yelling "Bertie! BERTIE!!!!"

In fact, on the eight hour walk, I didn't encounter a single human other than my own.

It was bright and sunny when we set off from the car. It's rare that you see Loch Torridon looking so blue. 

Luckily there was a sign telling us which way to go.

I'd already ran quite a distance (including side trips....) when Gail pointed to the south, to a snow capped peak and said, "see there Bertie, that's Maol Chean-dearg, our target for today."

It looked a long way off and awfully steep.

And it was...

En route, we passed by such a lot of rubble and scratch marks left by glaciers. 

Really, you would think that after a few thousand years, someone might have cleared the place up a bit!

Further on, the path was made from shards of white rock and Gail told me how she'd once before tried to climb this hill with Hamish, but his sensitive paws could never cope with these sharp quartzite pebbles so they'd had to turn back.

At this point I was still going strong.

But gosh it was hard work as we finally approached the summit. Lots of scree, HUGE boulders and snow. As Gail was quite scared I allowed her to hold my lead so she would feel more secure on the steeper bits.

Though I say so myself, I do think the fine panoramic views from the top were enhanced by the presence of yours truly.

On the long walk back to the car, I stuck close to Gail's heels, putting a brave face on my increasingly aching legs. 

Although I caught the scent of stag several times, I decided not to give chase. In fact, between you and me, I was very weary, and even sat down once or twice, in the hope that Gail might pick me up and carry me for a while, but she didn't oblige, not even when we came to a difficult and dangerous stream crossing.

After, like forever (almost sixteen miles, I believe) we returned to the car. By this time, the sun had gone in and the tide had gone out. 

It was time for a visit to the Torridon Inn. Gail enjoyed a pint of shandy and a fish supper, but, do you know, I was so exhausted I didn't even rouse myself to beg for a wee morsel of haddock.



Oh, and did I mention my sore paws?


Perhaps my friends could suggest a soothing remedy?