The truth can be so hurtful...

Overheard. Gail. On the phone yesterday.

"Hello. Is that Gordon?  Hi. About the agility class.  You said after you saw Bertie last week that I could bring him along this Saturday morning. Is that still OK?"

"Yes we'll be meeting at midday.  Can you make it then?"

"Yes I can make it at 12 noon, no problem. Will there be other dogs?"

"There's the labrador I told you about. And I've another couple coming too with their one year old collie".

"A one year old, just like Bertie then?"

"No, not like Bertie. This one knows what he's doing".


(Actually what he said was "This een kens fit he's deen" but I don't expect my readers to comprehend the Doric dialect...)

Cracker Dog Special - the year in review

Just a quick reminder that it's Mango Minster competition week (think Crufts, but in cyberspace, and much more serious). As I am entered into the 'Insane Cracker Dog' category,  I thought it timely to remind you of my credentials. An impressive set of achievements for a pup not yet quite one year old, I'm sure you'll agree. And not even a mention of the cashmere ex-sweater...

(Cracker dog voting is on Friday!)

Thinking back over the past year's activities...

Indications of recklessness at six weeks old

More early promise - attacking the camera strap

A good idea to jump all over an Akita/Rottweiler cross, no?

Dealing with irritating dachshunds at puppy class

Let's not forget the 'blue poo incident'

These very long books so need shortening, don't they?

In for the hamster kill

Ignoring the red card

You can't make an omelette without breaking egg boxes

Some things in life are just beyond reach

How to stop your human going out to work

Cracker dog time with a friendly Dutchman

I don't think Bunty was REALLY scared, was she?

Another cracker dog sleeping pose

And finally: in hot water once again, just last week

Yep, it's been quite a year.....

Hamish's view

I am learning what Hamish always knew. There are some places you never tire of.

So we had spiffing weekend over on Loch Torridon, though I had to concede it was not Munro-bagging weather...

Climb every mountain?

Come on Gail! Oh come on, over here, COME ON, COME ON!!!

Look outside the window! All the snow is gone. It doesn't even feel cold. It must be nearly Spring.

And don't imagine I've forgotten what you promised last year. You absolutely promised that come Spring I would be allowed to climb a Munro.

[Readers, you know what a Munro is? A Scottish peak over 3000 ft high. There are 283 of them.  Between you and me, it's my ambition to 'bag' every single one, like boxer dog Kerry did a couple of years ago.]

So Gail, look, I've even found this book on your shelves. Called, yes you've guessed it, 'The Munros: The Scottish Mountaineering Club Hillwalkers Guide'.



Now what do I see here, scribbled this inside the book? A list? In your handwriting, Gail, if I'm not mistaken?

Lochnagar
Mount Keen
Beinn Alligin
Slioch
Sgor Gaoith
Stob Choire Claurigh
Stob Coire an Laoigh
Stob Coire Easain

Oh, is that so? Seriously? You're telling me that my predecessor Hamish the Westie in his younger days climbed each of those peaks on your list. All the way up to the top and him with such little legs?

Wow!



So these Munros would be, like, no problem at all for an eager, fit and bouncy chap like me, eh?

What do you mean a fine line between 'bounciness' and 'recklessness' Gail? Oh, you're just saying that for the first time, perhaps we should try a nicely rounded Munro, not one of the one with jaggy edges and precipitous drops.

[I guess Gail is frightened of heights but doesn't want to admit it. I'll have to humour her for now.]

Well OK then. How about Ben Macdui? Looks good eh? Scotland's second highest mountain. Dramatic and imposing, yet suitably curvaceous...

Yes, that's the one for sure. What are we waiting for?

COME ON! 

Oh what is it now?  Must we really wait for longer days too?

Sigh.....

And now I am getting a lecture from Gail who has reached for another of her books* and is reading aloud from it:

'Beginners, not unnaturally...want the startling view, the horrid pinnacle - sips of beer and tea instead of milk. Yet often the mountain gives itself most completely when I have no destination, when I reach nowhere in particular, but have gone out merely to be with the mountain as one visits a friend with no intention but to be with him.'

All well and good Gail. BUT I STILL WANT TO BAG MY FIRST MUNRO!


*'The Living Mountain' by Nan Shepherd.