Monday, 8 November 2010

Learning about girls!


So. I have this new neighbour, Bunty. She's a border terrier, just twelve weeks old, and she came round to visit yesterday afternoon.

Well of course I bounced up to greet her with my customary enthusiasm. But she didn't seem to like that at all.

It was all "ooh I'm ever so timid, I just want to be with my Mummy, Mummy please stop that huge beast from jumping all over me, look at me, I'm so cute, with my big brown eyes and slightly trembling fluffy wee body, Mummy I need protecting, please make him go away".

I thought Gail might have sprung to my defence, but no such luck, and I was unceremoniously booted outside while darling Bunty held court in the kitchen.

Hummph.

Eventually, after loud and lengthy protests I was allowed back in and resumed my rightful place on Gail's lap, held tightly (Gail can be surprisingly affectionate at times), as Bunty roamed free.

Well, you won't believe what happened next....

Bunty, suddenly all bold as brass, went and ate MY DINNER!!!!

The little minx!

I was so flabbergasted I could only look on in mute horror.

Lest anyone imagine that this story casts some doubt on my masculinity, I refer you to the picture at the top of this post, in which I am demonstrating my latest accomplishment.

Friday, 5 November 2010

Bad hair decade?

This is SO embarrassing. And you know what I heard Gail saying to a friend this week?

"Oh well, I guess I'll have got the hang of it by the time he's ten".

Just like that.  All relaxed.  As if there was no problem.

I mean. It's my fur. My coat. My beautiful fuzzy coat.

Would you want to spend the prime of your life looking like a badly shorn sheep?

Yes, the bad news is that Gail has decided that she will try to master the art of hand-stripping and grooming me, despite (I'm told) a fairly disastrous attempt one time to do the same with poor old Hamish.

Well I can tell you I am not at all impressed with the results of last weekend's efforts with the stripping knife and scissors, and I think you can see why.

The good news is that she soon gave up with Hamish and put him into the hands of a competent professional.

I live in hope....

Sunday, 31 October 2010

A musical interlude in Torridon

Sorry I haven’t been in touch much these last few days.

You see, we were over in Torridon. It’s been an interesting time.

I have been discovering that information from Gail is not always to be relied upon…

During the drive West on Wednesday, Gail told me that this Wind Quintet from the Netherlands (the Anemos Arts Ensemble) were coming over to give a concert in the local Community Centre and that they would all be staying in our cottage for the week. Well that much was true.

She went on and on about how I would have to mind my P’s and Q’s because these classical musicians would certainly be very prim and proper. But they look quite relaxed and normal when performing an afternoon concert for the local school children, don’t you think?

I was told that they would likely bring along only high-minded and intellectually stimulating reading material. But this is what I found on the coffee table in the cottage. Believe me, Gail never would buy magazines this interesting…

I was also told that I wouldn’t be allowed within a mile of all the precious musical instruments. But in fact I was given permission to stand on the table to get a closer look.

(I wanted Gail to take the photo with the instruments outside the cottage, but Sander was worried that it would be too cold for his oboe. An ‘interesting’ excuse for staying inside in the warmth, if ever I heard one.)

Gail said that the quintet would be very wary of letting me anywhere near their delicate and sensitive musicians’ hands. But French horn player Cleo was well up for a scrap…


Gail also said we were to expect a clean living and abstemious group, who would always go to bed early and not stay up late after the evening concert and demonstrate levitation phenomena and make rude jokes about Dutch horse breeders. 


Oh well, I guess the whisky, wine and beer bottles emptied themselves then…With no help at all from Karel the clarinettist or any one else…

Only orange man Lucas the bassoon player went to bed early. No doubt to contemplate the final of last summer’s soccer World Cup.
  





I do, by the way, resent Gail’s suggestion that it’s me that’s looking a bit squiffy in this next picture.  What you see here is the mature expression of dog who has just this week figured out how to cock his leg in a truly grown up and masculine fashion.

Oh and another thing. I don’t know if you noticed a rather strange new object leaning against the wall in the back of the photo of the Wind Quintet and their instruments.

Look here it is again, without anyone in the way.

This, Gail says, is a hand-crafted sea kayak, a gift to Gail from the musicians, for letting them stay in our cottage two years running.

Now I’m no great boatbuilding expert, but, well er, it doesn’t exactly look seaworthy, does it. Do you think we’ve been had….?

Gail here: I feel duty bound to explain that the wooden sea kayak frame was in fact made by flautist Angela’s wonderful husband Florian, also a musician although not one of the Quintet, and that he has promised to come over to Torridon next year and give the kayak its ‘skin’!

Oh. Well then, can I just add, Florian, that I am an Earth Dog, and have no intention of boarding any kind of a kayak, with or without holes in it, and as far as I am concerned, you can take as long as you like to finish it, as one thing is for certain, time Gail spends in the kayak will be time diverted from her primary duty of paying attention to me.

Anyway, moving on.

After the musicians had departed, Gail and I went for a long walk to Coire Mhic Fhearchair, round the back of Beinn Eighe. It was very windy and scary at the corrie, and on the way up there was a nasty stream crossing with stepping stones, which Gail kindly carried me across (as I said earlier, I don’t do water). 

We’ve had enough words today, so here are some pictures from the walk.




I am still waiting for that cheque from the Tourist Board.

Wednesday, 27 October 2010

Extra Treats from George / Quantum Physics

A HUGE thank you to my pal George down in Shropshire. We did have a little contretemps at the end of that Highland fiasco Field Trip, but now that he has agreed to share his beer, and even sent me some of his favourite Paddywacks (yum yum!), we are best mates once more. 

You could say that we've kissed and made up, but reserved British males don't do that sort of thing...

Cheers George!

PS I am having a bit of difficulty with the computer help at the moment, so this blog may be quiet-ish over the next few weeks. 

In which time, in preparation for the Quantum Physics lecture (the next in my ongoing course for budding canine scientists), I would like to you consider the following question. 

Please suggest reasons why physicist Erwin Schrödinger choose a cat not a dog for his famous thought experiment? You know! The one where the cat in the box was in a state of being simultaneously alive and dead until the box was opened........Answers in the comment box please. Responses from dogs, cats and even humans all equally welcome.