A Wee Donner

I'm just back from taking Sandy for "a wee Donner" up the road, (who knew we had kebabs in Scotland when slang was invented?) . An odd walk, about half way up Colquhoun he was spooked by something, stopped dead & refused to move forward, insisting on going back. "Come on Dad I'm spooked, don't know what it is, some scent I caught on the breeze or from the ground, I really want to go home".

I was surprised, lately he'd been getting to the top of the road and looked interested in exploring further but now a volte-face, "What's up young fella?" He looked up at me with those big eyes of his & said quietly "I think it's a big fox, please let's go home". So that's what we did, turned around & headed home, his ears flat to his head, body low to the ground and stopping every few yards to look back.

Sandy Gains Weight

Sandy slouched through the kitchen as I was eating dinner the other day, the way he moved made me look again, yes he was heavier than he used to be, I wondered if he knew.

"Hey fella, you getting a bit podgy?"

"I am & it's your fault."

I was a bit put out at this accusation what did his weight have to do with me, I don't feed him, Liz does, and I never, almost never, give him any doggie treats.

"My fault, how's that then?"

"You never take me out walkies any more."

Sandy Gets Ready

Sandy preparing for a gig.

When he's getting ready he is focused, his whole being zoomed in on the job, nothing: except food, other dogs, Liz, a postman or other delivery person,  someone parking their car, a few other vital doggie things or an itchy paw is allowed to intrude. A consummate professional, he gives his all to his art.