Off piste foraging

Given the UK's current economic crisis, and anticipating worse to come, Gail decided this week that it was time to brush up her hunter-gatherer skills.

But before I tell you about Wednesday's mushroom hunting excursion, I want to make public one small complaint, which some of my pals might relate to.

Have you noticed how, when you venture off piste in pursuit of a squirrel or maybe a deer, you're promptly summoned back on track and if you don't respond right away your human can get quite cross? However, it's apparently totally OK for that very same human to wander at will into the woods, for example if they spot what they think might be an edible mushroom, and one is not supposed to protest.

Enough of the quibbling, onto the fungal foray. We were a bit late in the season, and after the dry summer this has not been a vintage year for mushrooms in NE Scotland anyway. Most of the specimens we spotted were distinctly past their best and those pictured below are not for human consumption.

But eventually Gail spotted a large mushroom with a smooth and shiny chestnut cap, pale coloured spongy pores on the underside and a bulbous stem, broader towards the base and with a net like pattern on the surface. Looking highly delighted, Gail plucked it from the ground, placed into her bag and brought it home. 

Officially named Boletus edulis, this much prized edible mushroom is variously known as the Penny Bun Bolete, Cep, Porcini or Steinpilz. 

Gail lightly sautéed her specimen in butter and oil, adding garlic and thyme.

It smelled interesting and she said it was totally yummy.

But all I got out of the afternoon was a nice walk in the woods.

Happy Nature Friday! 

Messy Bessie at Haddo Country Park

So at 11:00 am on Sunday morning, seven Aberdeenshire wire-haired fox terriers plus a WFT wannabe (a white schnauzer) gathered at one end of the car park for Haddo Country Park. And yes, that's me in the foreground. Everyone commented on what a big boy I've become.

After a short 'meet and greet' our attention was caught by a rival gang. About twenty greyhounds filed placidly past us to set off on their walk, which looked to be a rather calm and sedate affair.

It won't come as a surprise to you to learn that the term 'sedate' has never been applied to a pack of foxies...

We headed into the woods and of course quickly located a nice puddle.

Then I spotted an opportunity to explore some marshy territory at the edge of the lake.

As, it turns out, did Bessie. Isn't she gorgeous!

I think I might be developing a bit of a crush... 

I was mighty impressed that 'Messy Bessie' had accumulated even more mud than me...

All good things come to an end and shortly afterwards Bessie and I and a couple of fellow mudlarks were thrown into a relatively clean stream, and when it was time for the team photo we were all, if not quite Crufts standard of grooming, at least more or less presentable for the camera.

Left to right: Nobby, Merin, Bessie, Agatha, Stan, Snowflake, Peanut, Ollie

I bet those greyhounds didn't have half so much fun.

Gone fishing...

We were walking along by the clear and sparkling waters of the Dee last week when I spotted some men in waders standing in the middle of the river.

When I asked Gail what they were doing she said they were fly fishing for salmon. Or at least attempting to. It appears that one man was giving the other a lesson, but the novice didn't seem to have mastered the technique. 

I thought maybe they needed some top tips from a terrier and set off to offer my assistance, but then thought better of it. Gail says in over twenty years of walking along the river bank she's never once seen a fishermen catch a single salmon, although there's apparently no shortage of folk happy to pay many £££s for the privilege of standing in the cold water all day, living in hope. 

So I returned to the river bank, trotted along a short distance and then posed nicely for my new header picture in lieu of going fishing. 

It is a more reliable way of ensuring delicious snacks come my way. 

Seaweed versus sheep poo...

One's tastes change and evolve as one matures, don't they?

Gail tells me that in childhood she preferred Primula 'cheese' over Blue Stilton. Now quite the opposite! 

On previous visits to Torridon, when just a puppy, I delighted in the proliferation of droppings left by the many sheep which roam around the unfenced fields (and on the road) close to our cottage. 

For some reason Gail never approved of me consuming this particular delicacy. There was a lot of yanking on my lead and yelling "No Nobby, NO!!!".

Now that I am pushing 8 months old I have, much to Gail's apparent delight, outgrown my sheep poo phase and discovered a new source of totally yummy treats, conveniently located by the shore of Loch Torridon (a sea loch).

Do you like seaweed? Or perhaps you live in the middle of a big continent and have never had the opportunity to sample this satisfyingly squelchy snack? What then is your favourite Food for Free?

PS from Gail: Worried readers can be assured that, in truth, Nobby only really likes playing with seaweed - putting it in his mouth and dragging it around. If he swallows any at all, it is in very small amounts. 

Happy Nature Friday to all our friends! And once again a big thank you to Rosy and the rest of the LLB Gang for hosting this, our favourite blog hop. Do go and visit the other posts. 

A change of regime

What dog lover did not feel a twinge of sadness at the sight of of the late Queen's corgis, Muick and Sandy, watching the Monday's funeral procession at Windsor?

Sadness turned to deepest sympathy when Gail later read that Muick and Sandy are now in the joint custody of Prince Andrew and Sarah Ferguson...

Meanwhile, there is a change of regime at Buckingham Palace!

It was well known how Queen Elizabeth adored the corgi breed, and I've no complaints about that. Each to their own etc. But I admit I am delighted to report our new King and Queen Consort are, in my humble opinion, much closer to the mark in their preference for Jack Russell Terriers.

As we all know, life is merrier with a terrier! 

About three years ago, Gail and a fellow Plantlife volunteer were out at the Balmoral estate conducting a wild flower monitoring survey. As they were being driven down a forest track by one of the estate rangers they passed Camilla out walking her beloved JRTs Beth and Bluebell (both rescue animals from Battersea Dogs' Home).  Camilla gave a cheery wave before she strode on down the track. She was wearing wellies, a well worn Barbour jacket and slightly muddy leggings and Gail says she looked entirely happy, relaxed and in her element. 

We wish King Charles and Queen Camilla all the best in their long anticipated new roles, and hope they still can find time, every now and then, to escape from the pomp and circumstance in London and relax with their dogs at their Scottish estate. 

 

Meanwhile I, Nobby, am happily imagining the mayhem that might result from two Jack Russells rampaging around Buck House...

PS from Gail: I absolutely promise to those suffering from monarchy overload that this will be final word on the UK's Royal Family for a good while on this blog, but I've just found a picture of King Edward VII's beloved wire fox terrier 'Caesar' taking pride of place behind the coffin in the King's funeral procession in 1910.  Reportedly, Kaiser Wilhelm II of the German Empire was annoyed at a 'mere dog' being given such precedence!

Developing the independent terrier spirit...

I am so happy that it was on Friday when Gail and her friend Tess took me for a Torridon hill walk.

And not on Saturday.

However, I do have one small confession to make, relating to our otherwise perfect Friday outing.

Perhaps you can see that Gail is holding tightly onto my lead here on the hill, and giving me a stern talking to...

But it's hardly my fault, is it, if a small flock of sure-footed black sheep suddenly appeared out of nowhere on the ridge of the hill (in a place where Gail has never ever seen livestock before) and just as I was having fun roaming free and sniffing around in the heather, those sheep came past, heading for the precipitously rocky side of the hill. So suddenly I heard cries of "come Nobby, come! COME!!!!" and detected a note of panic in Gail's voice. 

Was it really necessary for me to come right away, my adolescent brain wondered. The yearning for a taste of independence is common to all youngsters when they reach a certain age, right? And, this was a great place to explore, and surely Gail would calm down in a minute or two. I was well away from the sheep and was certainly not minded to do anything stupid like follow them over a cliff edge. 

But the shouts just got louder, and so, remembering that she probably still had some treats in her pocket, I trotted back up the slope to where Gail was standing with Tess, both of them looking very anxious but also relieved to see me. 

I would like to have comforted them with the thought that it is only right and proper for a pup of nearly eight months old to start to 'test the boundaries'. Surely, Gail should be more worried if I was not developing my independent terrier spirit?

In Nature, Remembered

Amid the Heather

I think it fitting,

That here I remember you, our Queen.

Here in your favourite corner of your realm,

Amid the heather, bog myrtle and fern,

On a soft and mossy carpet, I respectfully sit.

As you lie in grandeur at Westminster,

Subjects file past, thousand upon thousand,

Some cry, others bow or quietly curtsey.

Surely you would rather be

In your beloved Highlands.

Far from flummery and excess deference,

Walking through the pines and birch trees,

Philip at you side,

Corgis at your feet. 

Naughty Nobby meets Mischievous Monty

 

Gail and I had lovely outing with our friends M and J on Monday. We visited Stonehaven, along the coast 15 miles south of Aberdeen.

Can you guess what the highlight was? 

Perhaps it was the chance to admire the view over the quaint harbour?

(Photo kindly provided by M)

Or maybe it was a run on the beach and a paddle?

Or was it the blue sky and sea and the sight of Dunnotar Castle in the far distance?

All wrong!  The highlight of the outing, by a country mile, was a chance encounter with fox terrier Monty, who turns out to be one of my older brothers. Despite being 18 months old and from the same parents, he is quite tiny compared to me! 

At first he seemed a little shy.

But that soon wore off, and before you could say "Mischievous Monty" I had him laughing away at my favourite "Naughty Nobby" joke...

"Have you heard the one about the human who thought she could outsmart her WFT....?"

The Queen's final journey through Aberdeen

It was a funny old day, yesterday. 

I'll confess to being a bit put out on finding the gates to Duthie Park closed at 7:00 am, and somewhat confused when the security guard behind the gate told Gail they were keeping the park "sterile" for the day. 

I was not the only pup disappointed to be deprived of his regular morning run in the park.

So we tried for a walk along the river instead, but only encountered more barriers.

Then it was home and, most unusually, Gail started watching morning TV (and, truth be told, spent most of the time crossly muttering under her breath about the lameness of the BBC's live commentary as the Queen's coffin was being driven from Balmoral towards Aberdeen, and complaining that surely her TV licence fee could stretch to our national broadcaster having someone available who had the remotest clue about the geography of Royal Deeside....)

At about 11:30 am Gail lifted her eyes from the screen, put on my lead, and walked me the half mile to Great Southern Road where quite a crowd had gathered to see the funeral cortege as it passed through in its way to Edinburgh. 

People and pups of all shapes and sizes were present to witness the event. 

Gail had wondered if it was OK to take a dog along to view this final journey through our city. But apparently quite a few other folk had also decided that since the late Queen was a well-known dog lover, it would be appropriate. We even ran into my wee pal Ella.

I was patient, quiet and well-behaved, like the rest of the crowd. 

Then it all happened rather quickly. A helicopter overhead, a motorcycle outrider, then a procession of seven cars, led by a hearse containing the Queen's coffin draped in a special yellow and red flag. I'm afraid Gail only managed to snap a photo of the second or third vehicle.

We didn't see any tears or great display of emotion here on Great Southern Road in Aberdeen, just a mood of calm, polite and respectful curiosity. 

But apparently I had witnessed history. 

Not that that means much to a pup who is only seven and a half months old...

(I am pleased to report that I got a 'proper' walk along the cliff path by the North Sea later in the afternoon.)

Ullswater excursion

So on the final day of our Lake District holiday with Janet and Helen we visited Ullswater, where poet William Wordsworth famously 'wandered lonely as a cloud'.

Let me tell you, there were no lonely clouds hovering over Ullswater on Thursday. They all had plenty of company....

Despite the less than excellent weather I thoroughly enjoyed both the boat trip out from Glenridding to Howtown, and the soggy seven mile walk back along the lake shore.

It's not the right season for Wordsworth's daffodils, but we did see plenty of fungi, including these tasty sounding 'beefsteak' mushrooms. Yum yum!

Happy Nature Friday friends!