Walkies time - which do you prefer?

To be early up and about, and catch first light on a crisp frosty morning?

Or to wait for the gentle glow of the late afternoon sun? 

It might not come as a surprise to you that my preference is for both! 

Pandemic pals

Today I want to tell you a bit about my friends M and J. (They are Gail's friends too, but this is my blog!)

You see me here patiently waiting for them on a walk last week, after M had stopped to take the photo below.

As you will have noticed, it was another rather dreary day in Scotland. (Oh how I wish last Thursday's post was not an April Fool joke - today we have snow again...) But although my friends are good bit older than Gail, they are not ones to be deterred by adverse weather. They also have more energy than most folk half their ages, and Gail tells me that in normal times M and J lead active and stimulating lives - enjoying visiting their daughter and grandsons in the Netherlands and other family and friends in Germany, going for sightseeing holidays in Italy and elsewhere, attending concerts, plays and exhibitions, improving foreign  language  skills etc. etc.  

With travel and so many other human activities on hold, have M and J sat indoors sulking? Far from it! They have been out and about exploring the nearby countryside, walking for a couple of hours or more, just about every morning of the pandemic. And to my great delight, roughly once a week (when Covid rules permit) Gail and I have joined them.

What fun these outings have been for a still lively wire fox terrier! And Gail and I wonder how many other humans at M's stage in life have become fitter and more adept at negotiating paths that are sometimes steep, rough, muddy, icy etc. over the past year?

I love it that we have investigated so many new footpaths and byways together, and I also love it when the humans sit down on a rock or log for 'elevenses', take out their flasks of coffee and snacks and, of course, a treat for me to chew on while they relax for a few minutes and set the world to rights.

Oh I do hope M and J will still find time for these walks when they are able to resume their busy lives. 

Nature walkies - keeping it legal

It's fun to go for a walk in the woods with a couple of pals, don't you think?

Last Sunday our intrepid friends M and J showed Gail and me a short but lovely route around Newmill Hill.

Fun, but as of the next day, illegal in Scotland (and the rest of the UK). The new rules, in response to the worsening Covid-19 situation, now say one human can only meet up with one other human for outdoor exercise. As far as I'm aware, there are no limits on dogs.

So at the moment, Gail can take me for walks with J, or with M, but not with M and J all together... Unless they all want to be arrested.

Oh, and the walk must be not more than five miles from Aberdeen city boundary.

On Wednesday Gail and I went for a wee trot around Tollohill Wood - on the edge of Aberdeen - with Muriel. (And if there were a couple of other friends not far off, that was pure happenstance...)

I am pleased to report that Muriel - a lady of most excellent taste - brought along some cheesy oatcakes especially for me!

Thank you Muriel! And thank you also to Millie and Walter for giving Muriel the prompt with their comment on an earlier post.

It was a crystal clear morning and we stopped briefly to admire the view from the lookout point.

Sadly the snow capped mountains we could see in the far distance are currently out of bounds... Sigh.

Happy Nature Friday friends! And thanks to the LLB Gang for keeping our favourite blog hop going. Gail is feeling in need of things to look forward to just now.

"Oh I think Bertie needs a walk...."

Believe it or not, I, Bouncing Bertie, have at times in the past come under criticism from my owner Gail, for acting too supine.

Humans are strange creatures aren't they? They insist on crowding together at Christmas, eating and drinking too much, all in the name of seasonal good cheer, and then instead of lapping it all up, certain of them start looking for excuses to escape for a while.

It seems that there have been occasions during Christmases past when Gail has uttered the words  "I think Bertie needs a walk" to general incredulity as I lie snoring quietly in front of the fire.

Well I'm pleased to report that this year I delivered on my side of the bargain in full.

Christmas dinner at Gail's brother's Peak District house had been a drawn out affair, with me, along with my poodle cousins Percy (he' s huge you know) and Coco excluded from the dining room.

Just as Gail was scraping the bottom of her bowl of Christmas pudding and rum sauce, and wondering if there was a slow eating contest she could enter Human Granny for (to assured success) I decided to vocalise my dissatisfaction at the general state of affairs.

Some people tell me my bark is surprisingly high pitched and piercing. And insistent.

But I am sure I was not mistaken in detecting a note of relief in Gail's voice when she was able to say, without eliciting raised eyebrows and knowing glances around the table:

"Oh look it'll be dark soon and Bertie is getting restless. I really do need to take him for a good walk before driving HGY back to Nottingham..."

Gail tells me you will want to see a picture of me somewhat reluctantly posing with Coco, HGY and the two grandchildren before we left on Christmas Day. So here it is.

PS in case you are wondering, Gail did buy me a wee Christmas present, and I now know that goose tendon treats are utterly delicious.

A Bertie-less walk...

As I mentioned in my last post, I haven't been feeling too great lately. (On Monday Gail thought I was getting better, but I haven't been wanting to eat, or do much at all these last couple of days and I'm told another vet visit may be in the offing).

So anyway, I would like to consult my readers on an important matter -  the appropriate behaviour to be expected of one's human carer when she (or indeed he) is faced with a poorly pup. I raise the question because, in my opinion, Gail's response to my indisposition has so far been less than satisfactory. Borderline unacceptable, in fact.

For example: We  journeyed over to Torridon late on Friday and I was still feeling a little queasy on Saturday morning so, after a brief sniff around the garden, I retreated to a comfy berth on the sofa.

I was imagining that Gail might stay beside me for the rest of the day, to mop my fevered brow and so forth. In retrospect, I guess I was mistaking her for a patient, caring person who might have considered nursing as a profession. That person is not Gail.

"Well Bertie, it's a beautiful sunny day, such as we rarely enjoy in these parts. It would be a shame for both of us to stay in, wouldn't it? Since you look quite settled, I think I'll leave you there on your own for a while and go for a walk along the coast. See you in a couple of hours or so. I'll tell you what, I'll take my camera so you'll have some pictures to put on your blog."

And off she went.

Let me tell you, I was all for refusing even to look at her photos, much less include them in this post. But then I was reminded that it is the EU 'in or out' vote in the UK this week, and that some readers - at least the British ones - might be anxious about the result, and would appreciate the opportunity to spend a few moments contemplating scenes from the UK of great beauty and tranquility, after all the ugliness of the referendum campaign.

A sensible decision..?

One law for them…..

Fellow pups, does this happen to you too?

Your human comes home from work and takes you out for your evening walk. On the way to the park, she runs into a neighbour. They stop for a blether. It goes on and on. You growl impatiently but are told to wait. Still they talk. As if there was all the time in the world. Your tugs on the lead are ignored.

After what seems like forever, the conversation comes to an end and you walk a few steps further, only for your human to encounter a second friend. And once again. Natter, natter, natter. Yak, yak, yak.

When there are trees to be sniffed, gate posts to christen, squirrels to chase, your own friends to greet, fox poo to roll in...

Finally, just as the daylight is fading, you reach the park and are let off your lead. You race over to your favourite bushes. Freedom at last.

You've been away, like, a nanosecond, before your human is calling you.

"Come on Bertie, hurry up, no dawdling please, we haven't got all day you know"….

The cheek of it.

Human Grandad's 90th birthday

So, Gail and I are off to Nottingham for a few days to celebrate Human Grandad's 90th birthday.

I wanted to buy Human Grandad (HGD) a present but Gail said that he doesn't really need more 'stuff' and that what he would like most is for us to spend time with him, and take him out for short walks in the Nottinghamshire countryside.

Well that sounds fine by me.

Gail has been briefing me on how best I can help make sure that HGD enjoys our walks. She says now that I'm one and three quarters it's time to take on some responsibilities.

So let me stop bouncing around for a moment and see if I can remember all the instructions.

1.  I have to go quite slowly, or at least if I rush ahead I have to keep looking round to check that HGD is still in sight.
2. I have to remember where we have been and how to get back, in case HGD forgets the way.
3. HGD is very thin these days and feels the cold, so Gail and I need to check that he has a good thick coat, plus hat, scarf and gloves with him. If he wears his hat with the funny flaps, I am not to laugh or feel embarrassed.
4. There is a danger that HGD might take a tumble, as he is rather wobbly. But I needn't be too alarmed if he does. He will most likely get up again, apparently unharmed, and say to Gail, rather proudly, "I used to play rugby, so I know how to fall". But best not to lick his face when he's down anyway.
5. I am not allowed to bark in the car, as sudden loud noises make HGD very anxious and jumpy. Human Granny says it's something to do with his time as an RAF pilot in 'The War'.
6. Sometimes HGD tells the same story over and over again. I don't know why Gail thinks that this is exceptional. After all, she's always repeating things too. Like "NO Bertie, NO, NO, NO, NO!
7. I am to observe how HGD will always touch his cap, if we meet a lady when we are out walking. This is apparently a polite old-fashioned human gesture and sets a good example of civilised behaviour.

Well none of that sounds too impossible does it?

I am so looking forward to my visit.

Perfect Autumn Weekend

 Fine walks

Splendid scenery

Fiery Autumn colours

A tranquil loch (yes, for a nanosecond, we had no wind....)

And at the end of it all, a cosy evening in front of the fire with a good book.

Perhaps the truth depends on a walk around the loch*

I have been accused of 'over-sharing' in my previous post, and so shall try to stick to more 'appropriate' literary and philosophical matters today....

Now I've been thinking.

The other day, I overheard Gail saying (inelegantly misquoting Ratty from 'Wind in the Willows') "There is nothing - absolutely nothing - half so much worth doing as simply going for a pleasant walk with your dog and seeing him run around, healthy and joyful".

Yes, I've been thinking, these humans have it lucky don't they? But so many of them don't realise it. They imagine that loads-a-money, fancy cars, designer clothes, high status jobs etc. etc. will make them happy.

When the truth is that all it takes is a well-loved canine pal, some fresh air and a nice place to explore together.

* with apologies to Wallace Stevens