Dapper Doggies

It's a frosty morning for a walk in the woods.

I make friends with Roxy the Cavalier King Charles Spaniel. We exchange winter fashion tips and debate the pros and cons of a fleece-lined hood, while Gail and her companions pause for a Covid style* coffee break.

When Roxy is recalled by her owners, I turn my attention to Muriel, thinking she might offer a treat. 

Hope springs eternal in a WFT...

*Gail explains: with the cafés all closed, the vacuum flask has been much in use lately.

Up there with Amundsen and Peary....?

The latitude might only have been 57ºN but surely Tuesday's expedition from the car park at Dyce will rank alongside the exploits of Amundsen, Scott, Shackleton, Nansen and Peary in the annals of polar exploration. 

In treacherously icy conditions, two cars, one containing myself and Gail, the other her intrepid friends M and J, reached the parking area beside the River Don at the appointed time - and only once en route did M and J's vehicle require the intervention of human muscle power in order to propel it forwards across a particularly slippery patch of tarmac...

Suitably equipped - parkas, woolly hats, boots, double layers of gloves, poles, provisions, dog treats etc. - the party then carefully inched away from the cars and successfully negotiated several feet of black ice to reach the safety of some railings beside the river path.

After a detailed evaluation of the conditions, it was decided to attempt to venture east, sticking where possible to the grass at the edge of the path as this offered superior footholds.

But after about fifty yards the valiant explorers were running out of options. J went to recce a possible route away from the river, saying as he left "I may be gone some time".  He returned with tales of a perilous half frozen bog, and the exhausted party chose to return to the picnic table beside the cars.

There, fortified by hot coffee from their flasks, and a packet of Lebkuchen, the party congratulated themselves on their safe return from such a daring feat of exploration, and decided to call it a day. Home fires beckoned.

Whereupon the sun came out and a robin appeared in the hope of finding that the fearless adventurers had left behind some Lebkuchen crumbs...

WISHING A HAPPY NEW YEAR TO ALL OUR FRIENDS! 

It's been an eventful week...

Really, I don't know why the humans are moaning about the latest 'lockdown' here in Scotland.

No-one can claim that "nothing ever happens" and "every day is the same" when they live with a wire-haired fox terrier...

After my exciting Christmas adventure on Sunday, Gail and I met up for a walk with her friend Ian - aka the 'Oil Man' - and his wee Westie Rosie. Do you remember five years ago when I first met Rosie?

[If not, see 'Meeting with Westie Puppy Rosie']

Well she's now an adorable five year old, and her little legs kept pace with mine, no problem, as we ascended Scolty Hill.

Then yesterday, another walk was planned, this time with Gail's friends J and F, their son Jamie and his border collie Hemp.

OK, so there is, er, 'history' between myself and Hemp, but we've tended to rub along fine together when we've met outdoors.

Not so yesterday I'm afraid.

The ground was crunchy with frost in the Warren Wood car park, where I was waiting patiently for Hemp and his family to arrive.

But no soon as they'd all climbed out of the car than there was an altercation involving Hemp and me. 

Suddenly, Hemp had me by the scruff of my neck and both of us were snarling angrily.  Jamie, a strong and brave young man, pulled Hemp away, at the price of a deep puncture wound in his right finger*. I was shaking badly, so Gail picked me up and gave me a close cuddle, while checking me for injuries. Soon I calmed down - it was only my pride that had been hurt. Hemp too appeared unscathed, but for poor Jamie it was a trip to A&E to get the wound checked over. 

So Jamie's dad took Jamie to the hospital and Hemp back home, while Jamie's mum accompanied Gail and I for the planned walk around the woods. That's her in the background, texting Jamie to see if they'd reached the hospital yet...

Half way round we met a group of four more border collies and that encounter passed off without incident.

At least it all distracted Gail from fretting about whether my Christmas sweater was getting muddy...

Do you think Hemp might have been jealous of my jumper?

*Gail says: The incident with Hemp all happened so quickly that we cannot be sure whether Hemp or Bertie was responsible for Jamie's hand injury, although the depth of wound perhaps implicates the larger dog. The good news is that Jamie was seen quickly at the hospital, and received thorough and exemplary treatment. His injured finger was x-rayed, cleaned, disinfected and dressed. No broken bones were detected, nor stitches needed. Jamie was given a tetanus jab and antibiotics, and will go back in a couple of days for a check-up. I'm afraid his hand will be sore for a while. Rest assured, we will keep the dogs apart in future. 

Do dogs have a conscience?

Do you like to start the day with a good stretch?

I do. I think it sets one up just perfectly for whatever the next 24 hours might have in store.

Now on Christmas Day, as I'm sure you'll agree, the biggest excitement is all about the turkey.

I expect that yesterday many of my canine pals scored at least a morsel or two from the traditional Christmas roast. Perhaps you did it the conventional, and dare I say rather boring way, by hanging around in the kitchen waiting for a moment's clumsiness on the part of the humans. Or maybe you worked hard at your "me is starving" look as you sat beside the dinner table. 

Or did your piece of turkey, like mine, come courtesy of a wee adventure?

So there I was trotting along the River Dee, enjoying a Christmas Day leg stretch with Gail and her friend Kirsty. As the humans were nattering away and ignoring me, my attention was caught by an interesting smell, and to pursue it I turned off the main path, up a narrow passage away from the river and into a garden.

It seems that when Gail and Kirsty realised I was not directly in front of them, they were unsure which direction I'd gone, so while Gail ran on ahead, Kirsty ventured up the passageway and spotted me.

Just at that moment, I pinpointed the source of the alluring aroma - an open doorway to a big kitchen where Christmas dinner was being prepared.  So of course I went in through the door.

Kirsty tried to follow but was immediately shooed away by a panicky lady shouting "NO NO, you can't come in, this is a care home, we have to shield the residents!" 

Did I ever mention before that I am a little bit deaf these days? It is my story, and I am sticking to it, that I did not hear Kirsty when she called me. The care home lady seemed anxious to have me leave her kitchen, and so she picked up a slice of turkey from one of the dinner plates and waved it in my face, and naturally I followed her as she walked out of the building. Whereupon the lady handed the turkey slice to Kirsty who relayed me back to the river path and Gail. 

Kirsty explained what had happened and asked Gail if she should now give me the piece of meat. My long suffering owner sighed and said yes, I suppose you might as well. Then she clamped on my lead.

Do I feel guilty that one of the care home residents might been deprived of their full dinner portion?

Does a dog have a conscience?