Moving On...

Hello dear blogpals! It has been a while since you last saw me here. There are no excuses other than that life is moving along nicely as I settle further into my new chapter south of the Scotland/England border. Blogging is not really an activity my new peeps are 'into'. However, now that YAM-aunty has been and visited (more on that in a tick), it has been decided that Dru will run a Facebook page, with access only for those who apply to it. It still won't be any more than once a week - maybe once a month, but at least you will get to see a bit more of what I get up to... like the recent trip to the Outer Hebrides... If you would like to follow what I'm up to, and you are a FB member, then do please submit a member request at "The Further Adventures of Nobby" on that platform.

My new home is the southerly part of the area of County Cumbria known as The Lake District. A lot of you will know it because of William Wordsworth, if for no other reason - although there are many other historical points! Drusilla and Stephen have been taking me around some of these local places, and I have been getting to go up some hills - though not as much as I did with Gail. It doesn't worry me, because I now have an ENORMOUS garden to explore and romp and play in! Four times as much as I had in Aberdeen. Maybe more. You get the idea from this video clip Aunty took...

Can you see how much I like it? There are lots of places to go sniffing, the orchard part, the flower part, the 'paddock' part. I have also discovered that damsons are delicious. I eat lots of them. This is me standing by the damson tree... the peeps were amused because I was no longer just taking the fallen ones, I was starting to think I might pick them directly off the tree!

As the weather had become very autumnal and the temps fallen into single figures, Dru also thought it was time I tried out my jumper... smart, don't you think?

I have a great many toys, most of which came with me from Scotland, as well as some which have been added since. I particularly like tug-a-toys, like this one, which I think was sent by a fellow blogger last year. 

While Aunty was here, she re-introduced me to 'footsy'; she puts her foot on the toy being used - most often a ball, but it could be anything - and hides it from me. I have a go at moving her foot, either by pawing her shoe or trying to snatch the toy from underneath it. She will move her foot over the toy and tease me endlessly, sometimes letting the toy peep out, or roll away before stamping on it again. Sometimes she lets me get it so I can shake it dead, then we do it all again. It's great fun!

I was very happy to see YAM-aunty again and gave her a great big sloppy kiss or 87 to show her how much. I'll share the piccie Dru took of that at the end of this post. 

Now, though, I want to tell you that this will be the last post on this blog. Aunty and Dru had a chat about keeping things going online. For Aunty, it is a little sad to be keeping this one up, as it is all still under Gail's ID, and she has no way to make any changes other than to write posts. Thus, Dru has set up the members' group over at the book of faces, and you will get some updates from Aunty, as and when she receives news, or we make visits. It was a big decision, but really, my life is definitely in a new chapter, and it makes sense to draw this one to a close. The blog will stay available, so everyone can look back over the years. It will eventually become part of the great archive in the ether.

I thank all of you who have remained loyal and joined in the fun. You can read a lot more about YAM-aunty's recent visit on her blog, under the label "Nobby". If you don't already, do sign up with her blog, because she goes to lots of interesting places and shares history, and art, and music, and Love with the capital 'ell'...

So now, it's time to say farewell - not goodbye, because of the FB page. I hope lots of you will join in there - but if, like Aunty, you don't use that platform, don't worry, she will let you know what's happening with me when she knows herself. 

So here it is, the final "Toodle-pip" from your's truly, the mostly nice, very occasionally naughty, Nobby!

Outings

Hello, furiends. I am joining in with the Nature Friday blog hop this week, for the first time in quite a while.

Dru and Stephen wanted to show me around the lower lakes area of this county of Cumbria. There was a big burst of sun during the month of May, so a few outings were called for!

One day we went to Arnside - that's where we saw the boat called Driftwood that you saw in last week's post. It's a grand sort of place. 

It has something of a seaside resort feel to it, although it is really on more of a wide estuary, where the River Kent joins Morecambe Bay. (It's the estuary with the summery shimmer that I am showing you - the luscious red sporty wheels are incidental... any day dreams of riding the lakesides with the wind in my fur are my business and mine alone....ahem....)

Another day was a ramble on Barbon Fell. This was a little bit more familiar to me. Hillsides and burns - or as they are called around here, 'becks'. Little runs of water not quite big enough to be called a river. Barbon Beck was a welcome sight for hot paws.

My new hubro, E, did take me up two local Wainwrights another day. That was definitely more of a challenge and closer to the sort of outings Gail would take me on. I really enjoyed that and, despite the dry weather, managed to get a bit of ditch-diving done. That's the only photo I have from that outing...

I like Wainwrights. It's not quite the same as Corbetts or Monroes, but it's still a good workout. I was quite ready for a nap when we got back.

Now you are wondering about the names? Well, the 214 fells documented in Alfred Wainwright's "Pictorial Guide to the Lakeland Fells" range in height from 300 meters (985 feet) for Castle Crag to 978 meters (3210 feet) for Scafell Pike. 

By comparison, Corbetts are Scottish mountains over 2,500 feet (762 metres) and under 3,000 feet (914.4 metres), with a drop of at least 500 feet (152 metres) between each listed hill and any adjacent higher one. There are 222 summits classified as Corbetts, and they are named after John Rooke Corbett, who originally listed them. 

Then there are the magnificent Monroes. A Munro is a Scottish mountain with an elevation of more than 3,000 feet (914 metres). These lofty peaks take their name from Sir Hugh Munro (1856–1919), whose groundbreaking list of the 283 highest mountains in Scotland was first published as Munro’s Tables in the Scottish Mountaineering Club’s journal in 1891.

I wonder what the highest hill/mountain is that any of you have walked/climbed?

Other than this, the daily walk near home often brings us along the Lancaster Canal, where, once again, I can have a refreshing and cleansing dip!

Special Delivery

Dru-mum, why are you at the pooter again?
There are balls to throw, you know...

Yes, Nobby, but this is important. Don't you remember that we had a couple of things for Aunty Yamini in memory of Gail? They need to be sent to her, so I'm making this parcel and need to organise the courier. Is that okay with you?

Oh, yes, I remember. Thank you for helping with that.
As we are thinking of YAM-aunty, why don't we post the photo we took of that boat here? Aunty really, really, really likes boats!

If you are interested, you can read about what was in the parcel over at YAM-aunty's blog. 

In other 'administrative news', Dru and Stephen finally wrangled all the re-registration needed to become my true, proper, and permanent Peeps. They truly are my pawrents now!

See you next week, friends, for a Nature Friday post!

Toodle-pip...

Daily Doings

Just getting through the day can seem mundane, but it's also meaningful, don't you think? We all have the 'everyday' to deal with. 

For example, the other week, I asked Dru...

Whatchya doin' at that pooter when you 
could be throwing balls for me?

Well, Nobby, she said to me, apart from my own work and household needs, I have to tend to yours. First, there is the matter of making your next grooming appointment (and seeing my ears droop and eyes go wide, she distracted me by rushing on with...) and I have to order in a batch of your foodables. All the stuff that Gail left you is gone. 

Food is most important. I was glad to see, when it arrived, that it was substantial...

Dru discouraged me from emulating my good blogpals, Da Phenny and Da Nelly, by making mince of that box.

Anyway, there was that. Then there is the daily exercise obtained from throwing, chasing, hunting, and returning my balls. I demand a minimum of twenty minutes a day, but I'll take as much more as Dru or Stephen can provide. I have several balls of varying sizes...

...so I am not short of choice. However, whichever one I choose for the day has my total focus. That one and that one alone is my playmate for the session. I will follow it wherever it goes. Sometimes, that brings the risk of taking a leap... but Dru isn't too happy with that, so she gets down on her tummy to execute the extraction on my behalf. No photo of her doing that, but there is one of me making shapes enough to encourage her intervention!

Hehehehe, our peeps are so easy to train, aren't they?

Mind you, we do have to tolerate some nonsense in return, like the grooming malarkey. I endured it once more but put up a bit more of a protest about my whiskers being fiddled with. I'm going for the Steampunk Hipster look. (On a side note, did you know the term 'hipster' comes from the days of the British Empire's opium trade, when all the takers in the dens would lie on their side to smoke their pipes? That's your bit of trivia for the week.)

Anyway... all that debate with the groomer took up a bit of energy. I needed a nap when I got home! 

See you next week with more about events in the Lake District.

Popping Up

Just a wee postcard shot showing you one of my new fave spots... in the porch, sunpuddling! I have to say, the new accommodations are very... well... accommodating! Hope your spring is full of light.

Give Me A Reason

Hello again, furiends! 

As you saw in last week's repawt, I have been keeping quite busy around my new yard and local area, not without the occasional disagreement with the new humans. It's going to take a wee while to find our mutually acceptable boundaries. I mean, they can't have it all their own way... ...can they? 

Take Stephen, for example. Like my darling Gail, he is very active and tends to the athletic. However, he confounded me when he thought that I might take up running with him.

Now, don't be fooled by the stance of the fellow into thinking he was holding any form of enticement, the better to encourage enthusiasm for what, to me, seems an entirely pointless activity.

Yes, I run around the garden - but that is with some proper purpose behind it. Bunnies, or balls... or both. Perhaps a squirrel. Sticks, pull-toys, and other such things add purpose to movement beyond a standard trot. I even took to running somewhat when Gail took me to agility. In fact, that was about the only time that Gail herself would be found running. Walking, yes. Cycling, yes. Swimming, yes. Running? Not her thing either. Not without good reason. (Long timers here may recall Gail's reaction when I did think it might be worth attempting to beat Uncle Max's record at a Peak District Parkrun.)

So I looked at Stephen...

Give me a reason! Even if you did have liver bits in those cupped hands of yours, you'd need to be leaving them like the trail to the gingerbread house for me to consider following. 

You could try the ball on the stick a la donkey and carrot, but I guess that would cramp your running style. 

Tell me, furiends, do your peeps do activities with no apparent productive end to them? Do you go with them?? Why???

Of Bunnies, Balls And Baths

Hello there, furiends, far and near! Nobby here... Hope you haven't forgotten me. My new humum, Dru, has been a bit busy to play correspondent with YAM-aunty, but on Easter Monday, she found time to pass on my report.

It's fair to say, I admit, that I have been stretching the envelope a bit on the behaviour front. What's a WFT to do when his genetic makeup is raging? Bunnies making holes in my new territory was really annoying, so it was only right that I go digging up their burrows, don't you think? Turns out that Dru and Stephen were less convinced. They took to filling the excavations with immovable rocks...

Really? Do they want bunnies bundling all over their yard? Well, that aside, they also took umbrage at the results of my efforts, it seems, and even took CCTV evidence...

Did they not see all those posts from Gail about my ditching and diving indulgences?! Of course, Gail always managed to find at least a puddle, if not a burn, or better, a river, to dunk me in before returning to the house.

Here, though, actual baths are rather more prevalent. My adopted husibs, A&E turned up for Easter. I really like brofur E, and I thought I liked sisfur A, until she took to shampooing me! Not just a thimbleful, mind you. A full-on, total lathering. Dru let out a "goodness gracious" response to my whitey-white appearance after it! She managed to get some photos of that pristine wool as I rolled in the garden after to try and dull the odour... and the brightness...

Oh well... at least the sun was shining and the grass smelled sweet. Nothing quite like air-drying au naturel, wouldn't you agree?

Still and all, it was rather fun having A&E visit. We went for some very decent walks around the Lake District, had lots of play in the garden, cuddles, nibbles...

Oh, mentioning plays in the garden (other than bunny bating), there was a good deal of ball activity. You all may recall my obsession with my ball. Or, indeed, other dogs' balls... anyway, I have a lot of balls here now and one of the ways I got A to make amends for the shampooing fiasco was to throw that ball, and throw it again...and again... and at least 87, maybe more, times!

As you can see, my wool is also growing back apace. Spring works on the follicles, too!

Anyway, I'm having fun. Mostly. There was more to report, but Aunty tells me it's worth making another post, so I'll see you again next week! 

Toodle-pip!

Postcard

YAM-aunty here. I received a brief message from Nobby (who had engaged the fingers and thumbs of new-mum Dru to take dictation) wishing me to convey greetings and to say that there will be a fuller update soon.

Along with that message came the following postcard. Something about this scene reminded me of one of the great tales from Gail's three dogs: namely, Hamish and the Great Scone Scandal. Clearly, Nobby is now hobnobbing and starting to feel very much at home in his new place!

Scalped!!!

Well, that's perhaps an exaggeration. Hello everyone. 

Dru and Steve started calling me "Fluff" because I resembled a Merino sheep more than a WFT. I hadn't had any serious grooming since I went with Gail and YAM-aunty to the place at Inverurie in November. Not that I was entirely complaining, given how cold the winter has been. However, as Dru noted, I was starting to be unable to see my ball. That just isn't cricket! 

So, it was off to the groomers we went. Not the same one, obviously. Someone local to my new home in the Lake District. Just like the Inverurie salon, I was attended to for three hours. THREE HOURS!!! I can't really claim hardship. It's a relief to walk around my new yard and find my way without bumping into stuff.

I was put into the coat to compensate for the lack of Merino covering! I think Dru forgot what a rufty-tufty bloke I am. Though, the blue quite suits me... Mind you, Dru also said I smelled a bit like a "big girl's blouse" rather than Cairngorm masculinity, putting it down to the groomer wanting to impress. That's okay, I'll sort out the whiff soon enough. I think you will agree the grooming work stands up well to scrutiny and is impressive enough without the sham and poo...

Does this scream WFT, or does it yell WFT???

Anyhow, the whole episode left me hungry, so I was very glad Steve had my kibbles ready and waiting for me back home! On a slightly distracting note, I think I overheard a discussion about dog agility.......

Familiar, Yet Different

Hello again, efurrybuddy! Last week, there was another big drive, and things got busy. I am going to let new-mum Dru tell you about it. After reading this, you might like to pop over to YAM-aunty's post about her visit and Gail's memorial.

Before Gail’s memorial tea, a party of Nobby's regular walkers agreed to meet at 11:30 AM in Hazlehead Park for a walk. Warnings of the big storm, Eowyn, meant all the sporty ladies, used to Aberdeen weather, turned up in several layers of waterproofs and impermeable footwear. Not so Dru and Steve, who had very wet feet by the end of the hour! Nobby was fine; in his ever-burgeoning coat, he was beginning to resemble a Merino sheep. No sane soul but us was out, and we did a round of the park and waterlogged golf course, Nobby running in circles, the wind in his tail, then trotting from group to group to spread his attentions freely between all his well-known friends. We were pleased to find there was nothing but natural mossy objects for Nobby to pick up. We’d spent the previous day in Torry near our Air B and B trying to coax Nobby to drop cardboard or buns - luckily dragging him away from other unspeakable litter.

No trees fell on our heads, and then we were blessed by the clearing of the wind and a calm sun coming out in time for Gail’s gathering. This was lovely and quite a surprise for us and, we infer, the meteorological office.

On Saturday mornig, we took Nobby to Duthie Park for a reminiscent stroll. He certainly knew where he was and obliged us by posing on his customary concrete blocks. 

A lady - Ola - even recognised him - ‘is that Nobby!’ However, despite saying hello to a few spaniels and cockapoos, and checking out some friendly shrubs, he stuck pretty close to us. We wondered if he now viewed the park as a spot where a dog could swiftly change hands to an unexpected set of new owners if not on the ‘Qui Vive!’. 

At the end of the gathering, the cafe let me come inside and I got to sit pretty for
YAM-aunty to give me some treats that they brought out for me!

Before departing those northern parts, though, Dru had to dash back to the cafe as she had left an item there on Friday. (Sadly not retrieved...) That meant another unscheduled meeting with YAM-aunty! She was spending another couple of nights parked, sheltered from the tail-end of the storm. There is only so much travel - and socialising - a dog can do, so after a welcome Lapsang Souchong and lengthy yarn for the peeps, and a pet and snooze for Nobby at the "Yamini Salon Du Thè", Nobby lay very doggo on his fragrant cushion in our car all the way back to Cumbria.

We returned just in time to celebrate Rabbie Burns's Birthday... and Nobby's Third birthday. A tiring but very worthwhile trip.

Haggis... score!!!

Pupdate!!!

YAM-aunty here. Welcome to 2025, and some very welcome news from south of the border about Nobby and his new "furmily". I am posting both here and over on DoWY so that nobody misses out on this news. As the document was a PDF with embedded images, a straight copy and paste wouldn't work, so I used screenprints instead, hence a slight separation of some sentences. If you have trouble reading the print here, you will find the larger images on that link to my blog.