A snowy weekend out West

We've had a lot of wordy posts lately. So today I've decided to give my sore paws a break from typing and show you some photos taken this weekend during a very snowy visit to our cottage on Loch Torridon. 

This is the cottage...

And me posing in the front garden.

These are the neighbours.  One of them is called 'Gail', which I think is quite funny..

Here is the local communication centre..

And this was our road earlier today..

Part of it is steep, so we had to wait for this vehicle to arrive before we could set off home..

Oh I wish the snow plough man had stopped in bed so we could have stayed longer to enjoy the scenery..

So much nicer than Aberdeen...

Please make the snow go away!

I know I said I wanted snow a few weeks ago, but I've changed my mind.

When I was a young whippersnapper, I used to so love the cold weather. Frolicking about in the park, ploughing a path through a few inches of soft, powdery snow, the sensation of rolling around to gain that 'frosted' look to my coat, all those new and interesting yellow snow smells, it seemed so exciting.

But now.

Now that I am old, I struggle to remember those joyous youthful times. 

Last Thursday night, I woke up and it was so cold in the bedroom, I started shaking. Normally, I'm an independent sort of a chap, not into sharing a bed and all that, but just this once, I swallowed my pride and burrowed under the duvet with Gail. I think she was pleased to have me there... 

Not only does the winter chill make my aging bones ache, but my paws are all chapped and sore from having to walk on ice and salt. I really could do without venturing outside at all just now.

Which of course brings me to a 'wee' problem....

Have you noticed how humans regard the indoor toilet as a marker of a civilised life? They don't like going out to 'do their business' in the freezing cold, of that we can be quite sure. So why, please tell me, did Gail get so very upset when I decided to follow her lead....?  Doesn't she understand that it's uncomfortable to pee when you're shivering and your feet hurt. And if you choose the wrong spot, you might slip on the ice when positioning yourself correctly against a lamppost or tree. Surely it's sensible in the circumstances to find a nice inside wall or table leg, and a paw-friendly carpet? Especially as us older chaps don't have quite the, how to put this nicely, the 'holding capacity' that we once had? (A problem made worse by the cold, incidentally).

All in all, it seems that global warming can't come fast enough to Scotland. Is there any possibility I could relocate somewhere warmer for the next month or two? 

Suggestions please.

The Season of Goodwill

You know, over the past year, reading though my blog, I do realise that I've spent quite a lot of time complaining about my 'owner' Gail, and not being truly appreciative. 

Well today, as it's the season of goodwill, I want to redress the balance and sign off for the year by telling you about a couple of nice things she's done for me in the past few days. Examples of how sometimes she can be kind and thoughtful.

You've all heard about my sensitive paws. Over the weekend we had a little snow in Aberdeen and it all turned very icy. By Monday, the pavements were all so hard and jagged that it really hurt to walk anywhere. 

So what did Gail do? She consulted the tide tables for Aberdeen harbour and next thing I knew I was being whisked off to the beach for a run on the sand at low tide, the only place with no snow and ice. 

It started off sunny, but then a mist came down and in the low winter light it all looked very atmospheric, I think you'll agree.

Then we got lots more snow , which looked pretty, but was too deep for my little legs. At least it was soft on the paws and so Gail dug a path to the street and took me out. 

A neighbour came round with a Christmas gift, but Gail was busy, so she put it down and then went out. This is what she found when she returned to the house. 

She was VERY cross.

But I was forgiven (as I always am in the end) and even given a proper Christmas treat. 

So, a Very Merry Christmas to all my lovely friends, and, dogs, please be nice to your humans over the holiday season, they really do try their best you know....

Where is the snow?

It's December, right? I live in the north of Scotland, latitude 57 degrees 6 minutes N, to be precise. For my geographically challenged readers (and those with a North American perspective), that's almost as far north as Juneau, Alaska.

WHERE IS THE SNOW! 

We went for a walk yesterday in the woods by Crathes Castle and I didn't see a single flake.

I have been checking my friends' blogs. They all live further south than me. I see lovely Stella joyfully rolling around in the soft white stuff. The land around the Rocky Creek Scotties' residence is looking stunning, like a scene on a Christmas card. Hoover now blends in beautifully with his background. Jake and Fergi have decided that the best response to a blizzard is to loll around indoors all day in their jimjams. 

What do we get here in Aberdeen?  Rain, rain and more rain.  It's just not right is it?

I gather that there is a big meeting in Copenhagen this week. Gail explained it all to me. I think I understand. A lot of hot air will be generated, then Barack Obama is going to fly in at the end and fix it so we get snow in Scotland next year. Something like that.

Do you think he'll succeed?

Oh. Gail has put on her scientist hat (metaphorically) and is telling me I'm over-simplifying again.....she's blethering on about the Gulf Stream, and how this young laddie Obama isn't personally responsible for the Scottish climate....

PS from Gail - it seems that on some computers, part of this post appears in Greek, but on other computers, including mine, it all looks normal. There is NOT supposed to be any Greek! (Hamish is not THAT clever!) I am investigating. Has anyone else come across this before?

The wrong kind of snow

Railway travellers in Britain will be familiar with the concept of 'the wrong kind of snow'.

Well let me tell you that a Westie's progress too is dependent on the cold white stuff being of the correct texture and consistency. Especially if that Westie is a older chap with sensitive paws.

Wet snow's just horrid and cold. Frozen wet snow forms ice crystals that feel like you're walking on broken glass. Well-trodden snow becomes all slippery, a challenge to stability, although low- slung dogs do fare better than poorly designed bipeds.

And have you ever come across the snowball problem? I think it only happens to us longer-haired breeds. Snow clings to the fur on your legs then melts and refreezes into hard little balls of ice, and eventually you grind to a halt, weighed down by what looks like a bunch of grapes hanging off each limb. If you're really unlucky, your owner will try to pull them off, which is painful. Far better to find a warm house or car and sit there slowly melting in comfort. 

Soft fluffy snow is relatively gentle on the paws, and fun to roll in, but if there's more than about four or five inches, then normal walking becomes difficult and really I'd prefer to be carried. 

Yes, on the whole, I think the trains have it easy. 

Sore paws again

Ow! Frozen slush is very hard on the paws.

Gail says I've got to be brave because I'm a Scotsdog. Apparently I shouldn't even be noticing that we still have lots of snow on Devanha Gardens and it's several degrees below zero just at the moment. Gail's just been down to London where they're all making a big fuss after a recent snowfall, but that's only acceptable if you're a Southerner. And it is true that some human Aberdonians (the less evolved ones) are still to be found wandering around Union Street late at night in miniskirts and crop tops, exposing acres of white, goose-pimpled flesh, seemingly oblivious to the cold.

Well anyway I'm going to make a fuss too. My poor sensitive feet are all sore, and so although I want to go out (as ever), I have to be given time to tread carefully and find a route where the snow's soft and there's no danger of encountering those nasty, stinging salty bits.

Can anyone recommend some nice furry boots suitable for Westies? Red would be best, to go with my coat.

Advice for soft southerners

I've just been peeking at the weather map. For once, the English bit is all covered in blue whereas here on the east coast of Scotland we have a positively balmy 4 degrees Centigrade.

So it occurs to me that readers down south might welcome a bit of advice on dealing with the ice and snow. Here goes:

1. Be a Westie. We have inbuilt thick fur coats and compact bodies that retain the heat well. Just make sure your owner doesn't drag you off for an unseasonal trim (or worse, a bath). But biting the hairdresser, as I did once, is a tactic to be used sparingly.
2. Four shortish, widely set legs are a great aid to balancing on slippery surfaces, although I admit that slightly longer limbs would be an advantage in deeper snow falls. If you have a mere two legs, then live in an area where the streets and pavements are gritted regularly. (In this household we suspect there is a black hole which swallows up all the council gritting lorries when they try to enter Ferryhill).
3. Wear a proper overcoat. I have a nice distinctive red one, which is both flattering to my colouring and stands out well against a background of snow and ice.
4. Cultivate the art of shivering. And looking pathetic. It is a very effective way of ensuring that the central heating is turned up a notch or two.
5. Don't be afraid to refuse to go outside. Even the most enthusiastic walker will recognise that there are limits. If the weather's really too foul, I find that I can make the point quite clearly by trotting down the garden steps to the street, then at once performing an emphatic about turn, running back up to the front door and not budging until I am let back into the house.
6. Finally, do embrace the opportunity for a good roll in the snow. Yes, you humans too. So therapeutic!

Today in Duthie Park

Feeling the cold

Brrrrr. Chilly today. The lawn looks white. I thought at first it was just frost, but on closer inspection it turns out to be a sprinkling of snow.

Days like this, the first thing I do when I wake up is go downstairs and curl up under my favourite radiator in the hall. An old chap needs a bit of extra heat. Gone are the days when I spent my time wishing that Gail would take me for a haircut a bit more often and longing to lie down and cool off in a nice clear mountain stream.

But don't imagine the cold weather means I'll want to stay in all day. Not likely! I might not need spend quite so much time on my usual tree sniffing routines, but I do still like to go out for my morning trot round the block.

This is such a friendly neighbourhood on the whole, but there are some folks I don't know well. They're the one's who normally scuttle straight from front door into car without so much as a word or a friendly pat. Well I can promise you, when Jack Frost's been out at night painting the windscreens of their Audis (why so many Audi's round here?), they'll be out there on the street hard at work with the ice-scraper and I'll make sure they register my presence for once.

Home again, and it's good news. Gail takes her coat off and turns on the computer. That means I get to spend the day in a nice warm study, snuggled up by the radiator again, assured of some company.

Bliss.