Boy am I pleased to be back in Aberdeen after the annual Christmas 'Grand Tour' of Gail's family and friends in England.
It all seemed quite exciting at first, jumping into the Mini for the long drive south, me in the front seat of course, keeping an eye on Gail's driving. I quite like motorways too, nice and straight, much more relaxing than the sort of roller coaster route that is laughably classified as an 'A' road here in the north of Scotland.
But after a bit, I do tire of being taken to strange places and having to put up with restrictions on my movements. I think I shall start a campaign for more doors with Westie-sized dog flaps. So frustrating to have to bark and rely on the goodwill of others when you want to go out and explore the garden.
Then there are other people's pets to put up with. I've already told you about Izzy the poodle (13th October post). En route back to Scotland we stayed with Steve and Drusilla in Cumbria. It used to be good there - big house and garden, freedom to roam, no other pets, well-behaved children, lots of respectful admiration from Drusilla at least. Imagine my horror then on discovering that a newcomer has moved in, Scooby, a very young, very bouncy (aren't they all) Jack Russell. I think we all know that no matter how big the house, there won't be enough space for two male terriers to happily co-exist. Let's just say we didn't get on. It didn't help that Scooby was garnering most of the attention. To be honest, I was relieved when Gail decided to put me in the car for the evening. A bit chilly, admittedly, but an old chap could at least enjoy some peace and quiet finally.
So, back in Aberdeen now. January the first. Gail wants to know if I have made any New Year resolutions. Hmmm. I'll have to think about that one.