We've got a guest staying with us while the mistress is in Canada with her mother: Jess the dog. She's a collie cross and I've known her since I was rescued as a pup. She's like my big sister and likes to lick me all over.
I've been showing her all the best places to eat up at the cabin, but she can't handle her grass. A few mouthfuls and she's heaving to expel it. She was so sick it was dripping out of her nose. She was fine though, just a little embarrassed. To make her feel less uncomfortable I too heaved up my stomach contents but it took loads of grass munching to work. I think my tolerance level is higher. We got frog marched out of the forest because of it and then I needed to eat the long grass at the dog walking area to complete my gastric display. The remainder of the walk was on lead. It was too hot to run anyway.
On Saturday we went for a hike along the yellow trail at Braeval. The water tunnels are amazing. I can pretend to get stuck in them for ages. Jess wasn't so sure, not wanting to upset the master, so stayed on his heels for most of the walk. There are signs everywhere warning people not to climb on the timber stacks. I don't think they apply to dogs but just to be safe I crawled underneath the log piles instead. I pretended to get stuck there too. It's just as well he carries an emergency tennis ball. I always come running when I hear it bounce or feel the vibration on the material above me. Otherwise we might still be there.
Jess isn't the dog from the radio adverts, explaining how to behave with a dog around cattle. This is relevant because the cows on the Gleniffer Braes have only just moved on Friday to the top field above the Robertson Car Park and we had to walk through them tonight to get to the Sergeantlaw fields to the east. It smelled like the cows were still adjusting to the new grass and had sprayed the contents of their four stomachs across every remaining blade of grass available. I love to roll in a fresh cow pat as much as the next dog, who in this case is Jess, but she has taken it to a whole new level. If you consider the human party nibble 'pigs in blankets', where a mini sausage is wrapped in a slice of bacon, then imagine if the sausage is a dog (not necessarily a dachshund) and the bacon actually came from a cow and is vegetarian, you might come close to conjuring the effect Jess can generate with her gymnastic spins, while on lead I may add. The genius of this is, because of the warm evening, the 'bacon' cooks for the remainder of the walk, forming a crusty shell. She got a bath tonight in the burn.
The master would have been really annoyed at us if it were not for the cleggs to distract him. He's got some lovely bites. It's a shame the mistress missed the expression on his face when he went to the medicine cupboard to find three empty packets of antihistamines, the irony being he's a pharmacist and none of the packs had scores to indicate they were not full. I told him to stop scratching and offered to bring out the grooming brush but he went upstairs.
We're not allowed on the bed tonight. I think it might be bath time tomorrow if he can work out how to lift us without putting out his back.