Torridon troubles

It's all very traumatic over at Torridon just now.

I've spoken before about 'the invasion' of our lovely cottage in Wester Alligin. Well it just got worse. Those two dogs think they own the place. There I was at the weekend, enjoying a nice, restful saunter round the garden, sniffing all my favourite spots, admiring the view of the loch, when out rushed the two young and manic Jack Russell terriers, Fudge and Nell, jumping all over me, no stopping them. I came over a bit shaky, and had to retreat into a corner of the shed to recover.

Then there was the breakfast incident.

A small person in a pink fluffy dressing gown decided she wanted to share my food. Yes really! I was pretty tolerant and ignored her as she kept plunging her chubby little fingers into the dog bowl. In the end I let her have a couple of pieces. It was the boring dry stuff after all - it would have been a different story had there been, say, a bone involved.

So all in all, not a relaxing weekend. Then, as if I hadn't suffered enough already, as we drove back up Glen Torridon, Gail threw me out of the nice warm Mini and wouldn't let me back in until I'd posed for this photo.