Bertie versus the Wii...

You’ll never guess what I’m being blamed for now. Just because a certain person is a very bad loser.

Let me explain.

Down in England last week, we paid a post-Christmas visit to one of Gail’s godsons.  Look, here he is, Daniel, the handsome chappie in the Argentina football shirt.

 

No soon as we’d entered the front door, than Daniel challenged Gail to a game of football on his new Wii computer thingy.

I don’t suppose it will come as a big surprise to you that my dear lady owner has hitherto not devoted too much time and effort to developing her expertise in this area. Unlike her twelve year old godson….

Now I will admit that this was my first opportunity to see a Wii in action too, but, in contrast to Gail, I naturally cottoned on pretty fast. As I see it, the game involves the humans waving their arms a lot, often very rapidly, to test whether the nearby terrier can either (1) grasp the moving human hand in his mouth or (2) take advantage of the fact that the humans are otherwise occupied and the field is wide open for toe chewing or ankle nibbling.

So by my criteria, I totally wiped the floor with the opposition. 

Daniel's version is that he won ten-nil.

And incredibly, Gail had the cheek to suggest her poor performance was due to being distracted by my embarking on a limb-grabbing rampage mid-way through the game…

Yeah, right Gail. Like you weren’t already eight-nil down when I first sprung into action.

My very important Christmas role

So here I am cheering up Human Grandad (HGD).

He had been feeling a bit down. You see, while Human Granny (HGY) is now so clever on the computer that she no longer even needs me to supervise...

...HGD finds anything modern terribly confusing, and that upsets him and makes him anxious.

So anyway, I asked him about some of the interesting things he had done in the past, and suddenly he relaxed. I found out that of course HGD still knows lots of good stuff. Gail only had to prompt him a few times when he couldn't remember the words. He told me about how to fly a Mosquito across the North Sea to Norway, to fire rockets on German shipping (a valuable skill in 1944!) He also told me how to discover new and useful substances. (When HGD was a research scientist in the 1950s he apparently patented a chemical for dipping sheep in to prevent disease.)


Well now, all this morale boosting is important but tiring work.


OK, that's enough break time. HGD needs me again. I have to go.

Well I have lots more I could be telling you, like about yesterday's visit from my poodle cousin Izzy (she of the lovely pom-pom tail, for those of you with long memories) and her new brother, Percy 'Fat Boy' poodle.




Gail says I was "surprisingly well-behaved" during their visit. A back-handed compliment if ever I heard one.

Oh, if only there were more time. I have been so missing my blogging pals.

My 2011: by Bard Bertie

The year begins with shocking cold.

With long dark nights. The sun stays low.

The snow is deep, but in the home,

Soft laps, warm hearts and fires aglow.

*****

February’s time to celebrate,

And bake my birthday cake.

But Gail finds it hard to eat

My replica, such a mistake!

*****

In March a new experience,

A true test of my social skill.

A house party with fifteen guests,

For whom I finally sit still….

*****

So April is the cruellest month,
Old T.S. Eliot had it right.
How mean of Gail to leave me home,
And go with friends to France by bike!

*****

In May, in Britain, some were pleased

To cheer along our Wills and Kate.

Did you stay in and watch TV,

Or climb Munros to celebrate?

*****

The month of June, my chance to shine.

A village fete (Feis Alligin).

When I am jumping through the hoops

Those collies don’t get a look in!

*****

July and down to Nottingham

To visit Gail’s Mum and Dad.

We go by train, the passengers

Think I am such a bonny lad.

*****

Not everybody's quite so charmed.

In August Michael comes to stay.

I really did not mean to harm

Him but, bare legs? What can one say…?

*****

Month nine, it is my turn to show

My heartfelt patriotic zeal,

Go Scotland rugby team, go go!

Win the World Cup! Or not. Oh well.

*****

October comes. In Torridon,

I'm simply horrified to see,
The kayak, made by Florian
For Gail. BUT THERE'S NO SPACE FOR ME!

*****

Can you believe it? I cannot,

November saw this lovely chap,

Gail’s Dad, turn ninety, that’s a lot

Of years, (he often needs to nap).

*****

So here we are, year at an end,

It’s now the season of goodwill.

So bouncing love to all my friends

And may your lives be joyful still.



Merry Christmas to all my dear readers! 


PS I'm off with Gail to Nottingham shortly and I will be concentrating all my efforts on trying to cheer up Human Grandad, as Gail tells me he has suddenly taken a turn for the worse. But never fear, I shall be back, and as ever with plenty to say, in the New Year!

Suffering from Tall Poppy Syndrome

Now I am all excited about reported sightings of the Higgs boson. However, Gail has persuaded me that my readers will on the whole be more interested in the goings on at this week's Deeside Dog Agility Club Christmas Party.

Fine then. But first I want to ask a question.

Fellow canines, do you ever feel held back by the low expectations and aspirations of your human?

You know, when I started out on this agility training lark, Gail went on and on about how it was all for fun, she just wanted to spend time doing stuff and bonding with me, she knew I'd never be winning any contests, etc. etc.

Well I'll have you know that at the party on Monday I won this most magnificent prize for 'Best Newcomer'.


And no Gail I do not think it necessary to be pointing out that 'Only Newcomer' would be a more accurate label. I hate this British tendency towards Tall Poppy Syndrome.

Now we have already established in this blog that I do not do fancy dress. It seems I share this trait with most of my fellow Scottish agility dogs, as only three turned up in full costume.




And two of these are owned by an American.....

I could tell though that my fellow party goers - dogs and humans - were in fact quite serious about the so-called 'fun' agility games. And so while Gail was still all "Oh Bertie I don't think we'll enter will we, you're really not quite at that level yet",  I was cannily sniffing out the competition.

As well as the food waste bags...


So OK, I was thirteen places off the lead in the 'figure of eight two tunnels and a jump' speed game (fourteen entrants). The winner scored fifteen tunnels in the allotted minute. I managed four, which is surely pretty good for a first go, what with the distracting cacophony of barking and shouting. Really I would have done so much better were it not for 'handler errors', like Gail kept placing herself in my way, giving confusing and panicky hand signals and at one point she threw a treat into the tunnel so of course I stopped to eat it, what on earth is one supposed to do?

I can't tell you how disappointed I was not to be allowed to enter the weave contest (on the spurious grounds that I've never yet in my life successfully executed a proper weave manouevre....) but I will concede I might not actually have won. One collie surely broke the speed of light.

Oh but if only we had some pictures, or even a video, of the final game. You would be so impressed to see me jumping round and round the 'cube' of hurdles, barely missing out a single one. I was all a blur, just like this photo of one of my fellow contestants.

Eleven hurdles in fifty seconds saw me half way down the field. Impressive, eh? Oh, no, here goes Gail again, trying to undermine my achievements, telling me to say they specially lowered the jumps for 'the novice'.

It's a good job isn't it, that I have such impregnable self belief.

I shall be getting around to the Higgs boson another day.