Advice on taking your human for a walk

Well, after visiting the RAF memorial on Saturday (previous post) I took Gail for a walk along the nearby cliffs, starting at Portsoy. 

As an old dog, with much experience of life, I have come to appreciate the importance of making sure your human enjoys the walk as much as you do. How better to guarantee that outings are frequent and rewarding? 

One key thing to understand, is that humans do have slightly different requirements from us dogs. 

One simply must recognize, for example, that in the homo sapiens species, the sense of smell is sadly very limited. Would you believe,  your owner might just about be able to tell that one of their kind has peed against a wall (it does happen) but they wouldn't have the faintest clue about the identity of the pee-er. Yes, really, pathetic, eh? But anyway, don't expect them to get all excited about sniffing trees and lampposts etc., it just isn't going to happen.

No, what a human likes is a Nice View. This can include historic buildings, such as in the old (17th century) harbour at Portsoy.

Or, with Gail, glimpses of the sea are also important (boring, I know). 

Strangely, she doesn't seem to enjoy romping across a nicy soft boggy patch of ground nearly as much as I do.

And I've NEVER  seen her rolling around in the mud for the sheer joy of it.....

It is probably a good idea, for long term harmony (Martha and Bailey Basset take note), to tolerate some picture taking during the walk, including misguided attempts at 'arty' shots....

I have also noticed - and in this we, Gail and I, are of one mind - that an eating opportunity at some point in the proceedings always goes down well. (I'm afraid that I failed on this score last Saturday).

But all in all, I think I managed to give her a good time. 

I wonder if my fellow canine bloggers have noticed any other odd things that humans like to do on their walks?

Banff Strike Wing

You know how it is when you get older. You don't always want too much excitement. My human Grandpa (Gail's Dad) is nearly 88 years and these days he likes to stay at home.

Well I'm pleased to say that, despite being no spring chicken myself (14th birthday VERY SOON - 9th November, in case you're wondering) I still enjoy exploring new places. 

Today, I persuaded Gail to drive me 40 miles north, to the old site of Boyndie aerodrome near Portsoy, so we could check out the memorial commemorating those brave airmen from the Banff Strike Wing who died in World War Two. 

You see, Gail's Dad was one of the lucky survivors. He was an RAF pilot from 248 Squadron, flying mosquitos and stationed up here in 1944-5. And I guess he had quite enough excitement during that period to last a lifetime. 

This is what the place looks like now. Quiet fields, woods and a wind farm, glowing in the soft autumn sunshine. 

It was all rather different in 1945. 

The mosquito squadrons based at Boyndie were flying sorties across the North Sea, firing rockets on German shipping around the coast of Norway in the closing stages of the war.

Just imagine flying all those hundreds of miles and facing enemy fire in a tiny little plane made out of plywood. 

 

You know what - I am so glad it's all peaceful now. I'll tell you about the nice walk we had along the nearby cliffs in my next post.