Keeping faith with Hamish

Sometimes, posts on other dog blogs prompt Gail to tell me a story about my predecessor Hamish the Westie. So it was with Saturday's Rottrover post, in which Bart and Ruby's humans donated treats to the local dog rescue home, but decided they were not yet ready for a new pup. (In case you don't know them, I should explain that the Rottrover household recently lost one of their brave and much loved Rottweilers, Gizmo, to a nasty form of cancer).

Well Hamish, who also had a blog of course, was getting to be a very old chap by the winter of 2010. At the end of his post on Wednesday 17th February, he related how he'd collapsed on a freezing walk by the beach in Aberdeen and had to be carried back to the car. Gail has now filled me in with more details from that day.

Just before the walk they'd been to the big pet store to buy a new bag of kibble. Gail knew that her dear old Westie's health was failing, and the thought had even crossed her mind "is it worth buying him a large, 19kg bag? I'm not sure he'll last that long". She picked up a 5kg bag, then looked down at Hamish and his characterful, expressive face, and set the bag down again, feeling guilty, as if she had been about to break faith with her beloved first ever dog. She purchased the 19kg bag of 'senior' dog kibble after all.

Hamish only lasted one more day.

Shortly afterwards, an unopened 19kg bag of dog food was donated to the local stray animal shelter.

Two months later, I came to live with Gail and bring new joy to her heart.

Gail says she doesn't regret one penny she spent on that last bag of 'formulated for the senior dog' kibble.

And, phew, what a relief, she says she definitely doesn't regret that I came into her life so soon after she lost Hamish. Although she will now admit, there were moments when I was a troublesome wee pup (troublesome, me?), tearing noisily around the house and looking for more clothes to shred, when she would picture in her mind dear Hamish resting contentedly by her side on the sofa and wonder how well she and I would bond and if indeed she was the one who had bitten off more than they could chew.

As if the bicycle were not bad enough (Bertie has a wee rant)

I knew my readers were smart!

Yes, several of you guessed correctly. The cloud on the horizon referred to on Monday's post was indeed Gail's new ONE PERSON sea kayak.

Oh if only I had had the chance to discuss matters with Gail before the kayak was finished.

See, I found this picture on the internet:

And this one:

I cannot imagine why I was not thought of. I mean, it isn't as if it is a shop bought kayak even. Gail keeps telling me how Florian, who built the vessel from a design by Thomas Yost, is a most wonderful craftsman. Well Florian, I have to tell you, I'm not convinced. I mean, if you really were such a 'Handwerksmeister' (he's German you know) then you could easily have put in a berth for a wee wire-haired fox terrier could you not? After all, ich bin ganz klein. Nur acht Kilogramm. Kein Problem für einen sogenannten Handwerksmeister, glaube ich!

Huh!

What's that Gail? You're saying I'd have to wear a life jacket and a 'skirt', which wouldn't suit a dog that can barely tolerate a bandana?  Oh don't be ridiculous. I don't see those fine pups in the photos above sporting any kind of strange get-up.

Friends, it is so tiresome to live with a human who has hobbies. Just when I thought the whole bicycling thing was the final straw.

And no I am not "making a fuss about nothing". In fact, I've barely even started...

As if it were not hurtful enough that Gail should want to venture on to Loch Torridon without me, separated from the chilly salt water only by a piece of PVC glued onto a skinny wooden frame, now I learn the reason she wants to do this.

Otters. Seals. Puffins. Dolphins and porpoises. Yes that's right. She wants to look at OTHER ANIMALS out there on the sea loch.

Now I'm a tolerant sort of a chap. Wire-haired fox terriers are few and far between in Northern Scotland so I can accept that Gail might want to cast a glance at different type of terrier every now and then. Just to reassure herself of my own exceptional handsomeness, you understand. And I act quite good natured (despite seething inside) when she goes all weak the knees at the sight of an Alaskan Malamute. But really, is it necessary to look beyond the species Canis lupus familiaris when we are so many and so varied?

Well there is no other option. If you can't beat 'em join 'em.

Gail, please stop harping on about tedious irrelevances like "but you won't even go near water normally Bertie".

I am going to write to Florian and request my own personally designed sea kayak. And yes I do realise that doggy paddle is nothing to do with propelling a canoe.  I shall, naturally, be expecting Gail to give me a tow.

Now let me see, where's the German dictionary...?

Sehr geehrter Herr Florian,
ich hätte gern ein schönes Seekajak für einen kleinen Hund der vom Wasser ein bißchen Angst hat...

A cloud on the horizon...?

It might seem to you, looking at these photos taken last weekend over in Torridon, that I was having a simply splendid time with Gail and her friends.

Well that was true, up to a point, I suppose.

But there was one new development that I am really not at all happy about.

I can't tell you more just now, 'cos Gail is extra busy this week and she says she won't be able to help me with my typing for a few days. But take a close look at the pictures below, and perhaps you can guess what might be worrying me?

Posing in front of Slioch

Breakfast time, and some new admirers: Angela, Sebastian and Alexander 

 I agree with Gail. Monopoly IS boring.....

Supervising Florian, as he puts the finishing touches to Gail's new sea kayak

Florian takes the new kayak (which he built from scratch!) on its maiden voyage

Don't go too far out across Loch Torridon, Florian, it's getting dark!

One can lose patience posing, even with the nicest of families

Sometimes it's best just to hide in the undergrowth

Can you believe Gail threw me into Loch Maree at the end of this walk?

At least all is well when I'm with my new best friend Sebastian

To be continued.....

Hula Hoops versus salt marsh lamb

I inadvertently caused confusion amongst my non-British readers with Monday's post, in which I told of my extreme disappointment at being offered Hula Hoops to eat, when I had explicitly asked for salt marsh reared lamb from Marks and Spencer. 

Who knew that 'Hula Hoops' (the foodstuff) were unique to the UK?  Is the rest of the world missing out?  I think not.

To plagiarise Wikipedia "Hula Hoops are a potato based snack, in the shape of short hollow cylinders".

They don't look exciting. They don't taste exciting.

Whereas salt marsh lamb on the other paw.....

... would be well worth a wet walk to Marks and Spencer.

Oh. Sigh. If only I were allowed inside.

[Note from Gail: I have long observed that Bertie is a supermarket snob. He is in fact quite happy to be tied up outside M&S, and tolerably content waiting by the entrance to Sainsbury's or Tesco.  He barks his little head off if taken anywhere near an Asda*, and as for discount stores Lidl and Aldi, well I'm afraid we're in teeth baring and vicious snarling territory.  One day we'll make a pilgrimage to Waitrose in Edinburgh, to test the theory further.  I predict Bertie will be rolling on the pavement in ecstasy. (Apologies again to readers from outside the UK, but you're a smart bunch, I think you'll get the gist).]


Sadly, there was no sign of salt marsh reared lamb anywhere on the shelves of M&S this week. So we had to settle for the plain jane option instead:

I am delighted to report that Gail came over all generous for once, and gave me a good sized portion. And that the Scotch lamb loin chop, "slowly matured for succulence and tenderness", was...

...TOTALLY YUMMERS!

But I am still going to email Markies and ask when they'll have their salt marsh special in again.


*owned by Walmart