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!

A trip down memory lane

So with Gail finally recovered from the horrid virus we have, two days later than planned, joined her friends Janet and Helen for a short sojourn in the Lake District.

Prime Ministers come and go, but the beauty of this mountainous corner of England endures.

On Monday, in glorious sunshine, we walked around Buttermere and up a small craggy hill called Haystacks.

The only blot on the landscape was Gail's insistence on recalling, at tedious length, her last visit to Buttermere, in the famously hot summer of 1976, when she went Youth Hostelling with her friend Kathryn and caught sunstroke. 

I would have scampered out of earshot, but unfortunately Gail insisted on keeping me on the lead due to the Herdwick sheep (which she says are pretty) roaming free all over the fells.

We ended the walk with Gail going for what was apparently a nostalgic swim in the Lake, re-enacting a scene from her teenage walking trip. (Of course there was no accompanying nice-not-naughty fox terrier with her on that occasion.)

Energy crisis? What energy crisis?

Last week I overheard Gail saying to a friend how she wishes she could bottle all my puppy energy and store it up to heat our chilly granite house this winter.

Apparently it is a thermodynamic miracle that two small bowls of food a day ( plus treats of course) can support a spring-loaded perpetual motion machine in the form of a friendly wire-haired fox terrier.

Since horrid Mr Putin invaded Ukraine and has now started shutting off gas supplies to Europe, our heating costs in the UK are skyrocketing and much hot air has been generated by humans issuing crazy advice to other humans about how to cut their fuel bills this coming winter. I've decided to get in on the act as it's clear some canine common sense is required. Here are my top tips for soon to be shivering Brits. 

My first tip: Don't live in Aberdeen (surely the UK's coldest city).

My second tip: If you must live in Aberdeen, go for a run on the City Beach on a day when the easterly wind is blasting in from Siberia. However cold your house, it will seem warm in comparison.

My final tip: It goes without saying, cuddle up close with your favourite fox terrier! 

Really rather a nice week (for Nobby)....

So I know that this virus Gail caught last week has been horrid for many, many humans, but I just want to let you know that I've had rather a nice week, keeping Gail company at home and taking her for gentle  walks in quiet places where I knew we wouldn't meet many other humans. 

For example, we went for a long leisurely amble around Loch Kinord on Wednesday. 

Well OK, I don't really do 'leisurely', or 'amble', but you get the picture.

We did encounter one lovely, friendly young lady. While Gail stood well back, I ran across and offered to check over her inflatable canoe. 

Having satisfied myself that the vessel was seaworthy, I moved further round the loch where I picked up some delightful aromas of left-over picnic while Gail was admiring the birch trees behind us.

All in all, a very satisfactory and Covid-safe outing.

I hope you have had a nice week too, virus or no virus! 

Happy Nature Friday! Do join in the fun with our friends the LLB Gang and their ever wonderful blog hop.