All's well that ends well

As King Charles might say: "Oh dear oh dear oh dear".

So last Thursday, Gail packed up the car and we set off from the cottage, heading for Inshriach House near Aviemore, where one of Gail's friends organises an annual gathering and I was to take part for the first time. So exciting! 

For the first five miles of the hunded mile drive, all went well.

Then, as we were passing through Torridon village at about 10 am, I was startled by sudden loud bang, the car swerving into the curb then a second even louder bang. I heard Gail utter certain words which I've been told not to repeat on this blog.

Long story short, punctured tyres, front and back on the left side of the car, a phone call to the AA, a wait of two hours and finally the recovery vehicle from Lochcarron garage arrived. 

Cue a slow journey to Lochcarron in the recovery truck, during which 'S' from Glasgow related his troubled life history (two marriages, two divorces, past problems with alcohol, job loss due to the pandemic, accumulating debts leading to house repossession, a move to a trailer in the Highlands) and political views (anti Brexit, pro-Scottish independence). None of this was making Gail look any happier.

Then a wait of three hours in the tea room above the repair shop, where Gail had to opportunity to peruse unfamiliar material in the form of motoring magazines and a nice lady gave me a biscuit.

The good news is that by 4:30 pm the car was roadworthy again, with two brand new tyres fitted. We reached Inshriach House shortly after dark, where my new best friend Lyn gave me the warmest of welcomes. I was happy enough, but to tell you the truth, Gail was still looking a wee bit stressed...

More about our time at Inshriach later in the week...

Celebrating my first Torridon Autumn

Each season has its loveliness,

But Fall is my favourite by far.

Hills clothed with gold. No crowned princess, 

In radiance could compare. 

 My nimble paws tread lightly through

The once green bracken, sedge and grass,

Transformed to soft autumnal hues

Of amber, russet, burnished brass.

 As darkness crowds out daylight hours

Each sunlit moment grows more prized,

For soon I will retreat indoors,

To comfy rugs and warm log fires.

Happy Nature Friday friends!

A Torridon miscellany

Breathing in the clean, pure Torridon air

Shieldaig's Gaelic graffiti artist fails to keep up

Sheep invade the village of Shieldaig

On second attempt, Gail locates the right car ...

Pink granitic rocks at the Bealach na Gaoithe

A pause to admire the view to Ben Shieldaig 

Stream crossing not attempted this time

Off-piste on the slopes of Beinn Damh

Relatively speaking

Greetings from the cottage in autumnal Torridon, where I've spent the past few days entertaining (yes I did mean to write 'entertaining' and not 'terrier-ising') Gail's lovely relatives, cousin Richard and his wife Kate.

Have you ever felt, as a young pup, that there is far too much discussion of your behaviour and wished, every now and then, to turn the tables and report on the humans? 

So that is what I am going to do today, as I am now clearly top dog in these parts.

Well I have to tell you there was an awful lot of talking going on in the cottage. These three folk scarcely ever stopped! Imagine the complaints if I had been barking for even a fraction of that time... Who knew there could be so much family news to exchange? And so much to say about bicycles (well, that was just Gail and Richard). 

Much food and drink was consumed too. Almost none of it found its way to my dog bowl. Humph. 

For a quarter of a hour period on Saturday evening I was unable to observe what the humans were up to as I was rudely interrupted in my determined and energetic attempts to excavate a hole in one of the sofa cushions, and banished to the hallway.

I can at least tell you that Kate and Richard were well-behaved when we went for a short walk, allowing me plenty of time to sniff around to my heart's content and to explore thoroughly the ditches beside the footpath. 

So all in all we had a fun time, and because I'm feeling generous I'm awarding the humans a Good Conduct badge. I do hope Richard and Kate come again to Torridon, although Gail says they live a long way away in Somerset, and that maybe next time it will our turn to visit them. 

But only if I promise to be a GOOD DOG!!

One final sad bit of news. We had to say goodbye this week to one of this blog's favourite commenters, Inca (aka Coppa's Girl), faithful and much loved Labrador companion to Carol in sunny Spain. Inca, we will so miss your always entertaining observations, but we know you had a good long life, and your human did not want you to suffer so took the kindest decision. Rest in peace, dear Inca.

PS from Gail: We are still in Torridon, where the broadband service seems to be even more flakey than usual at the moment, so apologies if communication is intermittent.

All over the place

No, the title of this post is not a commentary on the state of the UK government (although we would understand how some readers might think it should be...)

Rather, the fact is that Gail has been taking me here, there and everywhere this past week, celebrating the variety of different landscapes within a twenty mile radius of our Aberdeen home. Apparently at this time of year, in our part of the world, it is particularly important to take advantage of any not-too-cold and not-too-grey days that come our way. Especially when the autumn colours are so pretty.

So I have of course, as always, been enjoying my early morning walks in Duthie Park, where the sycamore trees are putting on a particularly fine show just now. 

Last Friday, I 'posed nicely' mid-way up our ascent of Millstone Hill, allowing Gail to take in the view over the fields and forests of Donside.

Then I ran ahead up the winding path through the now faded heather.

Of course I still had plenty of spring in my step when we reached the Millstone Hill summit cairn. (Mither Tap, the pointy peak in the background, was the final destination for this walk.)

So onwards to Mither Tap, where I tested Gail's nerves as I explored a gully in the weatherbeaten granite outcrop. 

I tested Gail's nerves again on Saturday, when I balanced on a wall beside the lake in the grounds of Crathes Castle (photo courtesy of our friend 'M'). More splendid autumn colours! 

On Sunday I discovered what a nice hike it is, along the Ythan Estuary (home to an impressive array of wading birds), to reach the beach at Forvie Nature Reserve.

And on Tuesday I had fun too, exploring the shoreline and checking out the beached strands of kelp closer to home near the mouth of Aberdeen harbour.

Finally, on Wednesday I helped Gail find the route through the beech trees in nearby Tollohill Wood, despite the path being hidden by all the fallen leaves.

All in all, it was a fine week. (Unless you are UK's now ex-Prime Minister Liz Truss.)

Happy Nature Friday friends! 

Silver furs around the muzzle

On Monday morning I found myself standing by the harbour in the Scottish east coast town of Arbroath, c.50 miles south of Aberdeen. Apparently we were waiting to meet Gail's friends, Molly and Steve, whom she's known since all three were all students at the University of Bristol, back in the Dark Ages. Steve's younger son now attends nearby St Andrews University and Molly's two adorable grandchildren live in Arbroath. 

To help me spot her friends, Gail supplied this photo from c.1982.

I'm pleased to report that they are both still quite recognisable and in good shape, although Steve, like the best sort of senior dog, seems to have grown grey silver furs around the muzzle (to see them, you might have to biggify the picture below) and the red on Molly's head is now mostly due to her choice of hat (which I stole when we were on the beach, and was somewhat reluctant to return...)

After a nice walk, the three old friends went into a harbour-side restaurant for lunch and I was left in the car to speculate on what they were talking about for so long...

Three dogs, one raincoat

Hamish the Westie, January 2010

Bouncing Bertie, October 2015

Nice Nobby, October 2022

The background story: 

Gail's first ever dog, Hamish the Westie, was aged fourteen when Gail decided he needed a new raincoat as his existing one was ragged and distinctly porous. Hamish's furs had all the properties of a sponge and as a result he definitely preferred wearing a waterproof jacket in wet weather. Gail saw this fine item of dogwear on the Land's End website and, in an uncharacteristic burst of extravagance and sentimentality, decided to pay an additional sum of money to have Hamish's name embroidered across the back. 

Sadly, Hamish only lived for a couple of months after the smart red raincoat arrived, and the nearly new garment was folded up neatly and consigned to the back of the 'dog things' cupboard. 

It wasn't until Bouncing Bertie was about one year old that Gail decided to see if Hamish's raincoat would do for him too. Although fox terrier Bertie was quite a different shape from Hamish, this flexible coat fitted perfectly and indeed looked very handsome on him. Unfortunately there was a problem, as young Bertie did not react well to the noise of the velcro fastenings being pulled apart, and Gail eventually found him an alternative, a blue coat with a silent plastic clip. In time Bertie did get used to the velcro sound, and occasionally wore the red jacket, but his glossy furs were intrinsically quite water repellent so he had less need for an extra layer in wet weather. (He did wear home-knitted sweaters in the snow and frost, but that's another story.)

So although the 'Hamish' raincoat is twelve years old, it is still almost as good as new. I, Nice Nobby, am now nearly fully grown. We have had some very wet weather this week, and my furs are not as thick and glossy as Bertie's were, and so Gail decided I should wear the jacket for my early morning walk a couple of days ago. At first I thought she had given me an exciting new item to chew, but it turned out that was not the idea, and pretty soon I reconciled myself to the novel experience of wearing clothing and trotted happily round the park feeling quite suave.

I have noticed that what looks like the very same jacket is still available on the Lands' End website. Who thinks Gail should order me a brand new one - perhaps for a Christmas present this year - and have it customised with my name embroidered across the back? 'Nobby' or 'Nice Nobby'? What do you think? 

Am I missing the point?

Gail says that nature documentaries are there to help everyone better appreciate and understand the natural wonders of our planet, and to encourage us to preserve them for the future.

She says that our magnificent (and seemingly immortal) Mr Attenborough and his crew do not go to all that trouble filming wolves in the Arctic in order to provide a certain fox terrier with hunting tips. 

I disagree. And I would like to thank Sir David for showing me what to do should I happen to find a herd of bison roaming Duthie Park this winter.

Happy Nature Friday friends! And once again thanks to the LLB Gang for hosting this, our favourite blog hop. Do go and visit the other posts. 

Helping with the energy crisis

You would think, wouldn't you, that with energy in the UK currently priced at 87 squillion £ per megawatt-hour courtesy of evil Mr Putin, my ongoing efforts to help reduce our heating costs might be appreciated.

Sadly not. Each time I gather up some firewood when out on a walk, and go to the trouble of dragging it along the street and all the way back to our front door, it is firmly removed from my mouth before I am allowed to enter the house.

With Gail disdaining my well-meant efforts to stock our house with fuel for the winter, I just hope that there will be funds left over for my treat supply once our gas and electricity bills have been paid...

By the way, I remain available for warming winter cuddles, at least for as long as it pleases me.

A plate of stovies...?

I ran into my friend Eddie the Springer Spaniel in the park yesterday morning. He's quite a good sport usually, although not as springy as he used to be, but on this occasion his nose was distinctly out of joint. 

"What's the matter, old pal?" I asked. 

"Oh Nobby, something terrible has happened. A brand new kitten arrived in our house last week and has taken up residence on my human's lap. I'm told she is a Bengal cat, but between you and me, she looks just like a plate of stovies*. She's called Mabel."

Gosh I feel for poor Eddie, I really do. How much better it would have been to find a plate of real stovies on one's human's lap! 

I have 'borrowed' from internet to show you pictures of a Bengal cat and a plate of stovies. Can you tell which is which?

*Stovies - a Scottish 'delicacy', based on potatoes and left over meat and often served with oatcakes and beetroot.

We all had a blast...

So this week while I was having a (metaphorical) blast, running around the farm with my fox terrier relatives and making myself quite at home in the cosily dog dominated farmhouse kitchen...

....Gail was apparently enduring a (literal) blast, of wind and rain, as she and her cycling friends battled through the back roads of Perthshire, Central Scotland. 

Gail says: The great news is that Nobby received an A* report from his breeder Alex when I picked him up from his short sojourn back with his Craigmancie Wire Fox Terrier family. "You've brought up a lovely, happy dog, he fitted right in, he's been as good as gold." Music to my ears!