decidedly delish...

Oh I have something very exciting to report today.

A posh new shop especially for dogs has opened, and it is only about a half mile walk from our home.

Although my poorly paw is still not better, I persuaded Gail that I could hobble there, if allowed to go very slowly and sniff everything en route.


It was a bit unfortunate that when we eventually arrived we found there was another pup, apparently of uncertain temperament, inside the shop and being fitted for a fancy harness.

So I agreed, just this once, to wait patiently outside, while Gail checked the place out. I did have the foresight to impose the strict condition that she was not to come out again without having bought me a very special and expensive (because I'm worth it) treat.


I am delighted to report that the buffalo jerky from 'decidedly dogs' was Decidedly Delicious. 

K-oss Party: Prince William to the rescue!

Gail reminded me this week that I have not yet made arrangements to attend Murphy and Stanley's K-oss Party on 14 February.

To be honest, I have been feeling so down in the dumps with my sore paw that I have not been in the party mood.

But then I had an idea!

It occurred to me that I could be taken there by ambulance, and pick up my darling Addi on the way, if she would do me the honour of again being my partner.

How lucky that I ran into Prince William, who works as an air ambulance pilot when he is not on royal duty.

I showed him my poorly paw, put on my most mournful look, and asked if he would be prepared to transport me and Addi to the party.

And you know what? He said yes!

Gosh, I am now thinking, I wonder if, just this once, Addi might be prepared to overcome her resistance to wearing clothes, and dress up as my nurse?

A guy can always fantasize....

Stretching Scotland's 'Right to Roam' laws?

Readers, have you any idea how awkward it is to have to wear a lampshade? It really isn't easy relearning how to navigate one's way round the house as a 'wide load'.

Anyway, by Sunday morning I was fed up to the back teeth with being indoors, and despite my paw not yet being quite better, I told Gail I wanted to go out for a walk.

Much to my surprise, she  agreed, and said, "I know Bertie, what with all this week's news about President Trump, why don't we go and see how things are coming along at his golf course. It's only a few miles away, and we've never had a snoop around since it was completed, have we?"

Well of course I was totally up for it and even consented to pose by the sign at the entrance.


To be honest, neither Gail nor I were sure if we'd be allowed to penetrate any further, but we made it all the way to the strangely empty car park


The golf resort's restaurant was deserted too.


And there was absolutely no sign of any golfers.

With nothing else to see at the clubhouse, we moved on to the Balmedie Country Park, just to the south of the golf links, and walked along the beach.



If you climb up the sand dunes you can see the golf course again.


How strange. Still no golfers, despite what looked to us like perfect conditions (sunshine, no wind, not that cold).


Then we spotted a couple with a dog strolling down the fairway, and, there being no barrier or signs, decided to join them.

While I had fun with my new friend, Gail chatted to the couple. The too were bemused by the absence of golfers, and said they were hoping it meant that everyone was boycotting the course and that Trump's venture would go bankrupt and the area would be allowed to revert to its natural state.

I saw Gail was nodding in agreement.

(Readers may not be aware that this used to be conservation area designated a 'Site of Special Scientific Interest', but Trump bulldozed his way through the environmental legislation to build the golf resort).

Well by now my sore paw was beginning to hurt again, so it was time to head for home.

It only remained for me to leave a message for Mr Trump.


What did I say?

Friends, perhaps I should leave that to your fertile imaginations..

Oh woe is me...

I regret to report that my interdigital cyst problem has suddenly flared up again, and my left front paw REALLY REALLY REALLY HURTS.

Oh I am feeling so sorry for myself (as only dogs can, Gail says).

First thing this morning when Gail took me outside for a 'comfort break' I did not even want to walk down the steps from our front door to the street so she carried me.

I then hobbled three legged to the nearest tree, cocked my leg as usual, and promptly toppled over.

Four legs good, two legs bad.

That it was a frosty morning, and slippery underpaw, did not help, obviously.

After a few more attempts, I figured out how to keep my balance, and at least avoided the humiliation of having to squat like a girl.

We went to the vet this afternoon. It was a battle of strength and wills as Gail put me in a stranglehold, and vet Katrine grabbed my poorly paw, and I squealed and squirmed as she squeezed hard on the swollen bit, and blood and pus spurted out leaving surgery looking like the aftermath of a terrorist massacre.

Gail said it was a flow rate to gladden the heart of a North Sea oil explorer...

I came home with some painkillers and antibiotics and I am hoping I'll be feeling better tomorrow.