A naked dog is delivered from Spain

Sunday night 7.30pm standing at the side of the road waiting for our new Spanish hairy parcel to be delivered.

Blind date but slightly different.

If there was no spark, no “click” then like it or not he was lumbered with us and we were lumbered with him.

I can confirm this does not enter your head when you click “SAVE” on Facebook when you see a dog that is about to get put down for no reason other than no-one wants him. Sob. Wimper. Snot.

The transport up from Spain had a Messenger Group so we had been able to track their progress and enjoy the photos of other people as they scooped up their own hair deliveries the length and breadth of the country and now it was our turn.

The big white van pulled up, the paperwork was handed over to us, the side of the van slid open and  our new hairy charge“Terry” emerged in the arms of the guy who had driven him – and 25 others – up from the South of Spain dropping them off enroute one and one and two by two. The arc of mongrels.

Beagles, a German Shepherd, a few cute hairy mutts, an English setter – all death row escapees all driving home for Christmas (Cue Chris Rea  – actually don’t- I want to get on with the story -)

The unsuspecting sausage dog was all togged up and  there to meet the van too.

Advice was to walk the new and old dogs around a bit before going in. We followed instructions and watched as Terry – who was taller and longer than he looked during our brief observation online – padded along, sniffing the air with the most magnificent tail, a virtual aerial, with a wee kink on the end swooping back and forward.

God knows how long in the perrera (death row), 3 days in a kennel, 3 days in a van and still he was smiling. A born optimist. A good start.

Once in the garden we let them off the lead and Charlie the sausage, the long suffering husband and I stood and watched as Terry took off like a rocket, running in circles, swooping round, tail wagging, sniffing the grass, running fast and long and as fast as he could, skidding to a halt just before he hit the wall – literally – turning and screeching back again – joyful.

Opening the kitchen door we went in, followed by Charlie then the new boy in town.

Alpha male and female, followed by top (if not small and low slung) dog and then Terry. Following instructions learnt on YouTube from a variety of sources.

We watched as he found and slurped all the water in the dish and then padded about the place having a good look and sniff round glancing at us periodically in case we were angry, upset or liable to throw him out again.  All he saw were cheesy grins.

Thinking ahead – unlike us to be fair – we had taken the precaution of putting a gate – looks like a child gate between the kitchen and the lounge with an additional tiny gate in the middle. Our reasons were two fold.

1. If Charlie found it all a bit much  – being an only sausage up to this point – then he could slink through it and away from Terry for some peace and quiet.

And

2. We had no idea what Terry would do!  Chew a chair? Crap on the rug? Attack us with his rather magnificent looking teeth? We all needed to be separated if necessary.

Charlie looked a little grumpy and so to remind him had a mini get out gate like the one pictured here.  I opened it. He looked at it. Smiled. And slunk through in a pleased as punch way which was short lived as Terry – forcing his bony hairy considerably larger self into the considerably smaller aperture – he pushed his way through the tiny gate within a gate too – tada! There he was on the other side too.

I would sell him to the circus as the contortionist dog if I wasn’t already a little bit in love with him.

A cheeky optimist.

Tomorrow or first day……I will report back.

 

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Meldrum House -a dog friendly, delightful destination.

I know I know I sound like a stuck record but really. This time of year in our glorious country matches and beats hands down anywhere else on the planet you could meander. In my humble opinion. On the road…the long suffering husband.. Charlie Chorizo Sausage Dog and myself.

 

The sausage at Meldrum House – someone shouted BISCUITS!

 

Originally from the North East I have been there a lot recently as I have been settling my Mum into a Care Home. She has Alzheimers and it has been a rollercoaster of a year but she has gravitated home to Aberdeen where she was born and bred.  She has lived in the Central belt for 15 years and yet the moment she stepped over the threshold of this particular home she just put her hand on my arm and said “This is where I want to live”.  So..a very very long story short..I am splitting my time to be with her and to be in Edinburgh. It’s an easy 2 hour drive and now Mum is  settled the long suffering husband, sausage dog and I decided to go away for a few days to just walk, inhale the delicious fresh air and relax.

 

Old Meldrum Golf Course….wow!

It’s hard to find accommodation last minute in the Aberdeen area especially at this time of year and so with a google, a wing, a prayer and a bit of pot luck we rocked up to Meldrum House, about 30 minutes outside the City on the outskirts of Old Meldrum . And well…. be still my beating heart. Its like  Disney Castle – but the real McCoy – and what  a location!

A wee something whilst we enjoyed a pre dinner bev

Privately owned it really is a very special spot indeed.

There was a wedding on  which they warned us about so we were in the main house. The weddings are in an annex and we honestly didn’t know the huge rollocking party was there.

 

We had a great wander about, a delicious meal and retired early to our huge bedroom where we slept like logs (or dogs in Charlies case) partly because of the giant bed but also because the vast windows were draped in the best black out curtains the world has ever seen. Fabulous.

Being an obsessive foodie it was great to find this chef knows his onions and every other item of food. Delicious food. And their smoked haddock and poached egg in the morning was a thing of beauty. Och it all was. Including the hungover wedding guests clutching their heads and gulping coffee with shaky hands – ah yes those were the days.

The staff were all lovely, chatty and informal. Despite it being mid summer or near enough a huge fire roared in the entrance hall which always makes for a warm welcome and nothing was too much trouble.

If you golf – prepare yourself – it is a beautiful course. Its not cheap to play but the hotel can arrange it all for you. I hit a bucket of balls but didn’t play – well I can’t yet! Having just had my first lesson in 20 years I am currently smitten but if the mere thought of golf repels you don’t be discouraged the gardens are like Life on Earth ….Swans and their signets, Geese and their Goslings, 2 Highland Cows and a few tourists……the full enchilada. Bliss.

Mr & Mrs Goose and their Goslings – gas and air for the poor duchess there were about 12!
Love is in the air for these two hairy galoots.

Sausage still looking for that biscuit ……Seriously refreshed and podged up with lovely food we will be back…….and soon.For now the sausage, husband and I are heading elsewhere on the hunt for more dog friendly places to stay….will keep you posted.
Oh and whatever rate you get on booking.com phone the hotel direct – you aye get the best deal that way…..Here’s their details….Meldrum House Country Hotel & Golf Course
T: +44 (0)1651 872294
F: +44 (0)1651 872464
E: enquiries@meldrumhouse.com

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Sack of tatties

A mature party - unlike one we've ever had. Sadly.
A mature party – unlike one we’ve ever had. Sadly. Courtesy of www.thetelegraph.co.uk

Why is it I wait until the morning of a party to get something to wear? It’s not just any party either its our party. A party to relaunch our restaurant in Aberdeen.

As ever I have been concentrating on the night itself, the folk, the food, the drink and the music and then come the revolution I think. ‘Och I will just wear that-it’s’ fine’. Then I realise when I try it on and the poundage of Christmas still clings to my not insubstantial fleshy bits  it is not in fact fine at all unless I want to look like a mutton dressed as lamb, VPL, bulgy bodied, baggy kneed harridan. Which I don’t.

The thing is it’s a perfectly good dress, from Sandwich which my pal donated to me but it won’t cut the mustard unless I cut the calories and it’s a little late for that.   To wear a too tight bulger is just not going to do for the relaunch of the restaurant  plus let’s be honest I am seeing people I haven’t seen for 20 years and I don’t want to look well em.. 20 years older. Also I don’t want to look as though I have tried too hard so the frock that was for the offsprings 21st is not getting an airing. “She’s done up like a dogs dinner look at the state of that!” Its a rock and a hard place situation so I get up at 7am and google all the shops in Edinburgh, the majority of which don’t open till 10am ! Why? Anyway we are leaving at 10am so the only real option is John Lewis.  Concession central so I am standing at their locked grill gates at 8.59am  to find something. Anything.

Cramming 20 dresses into a changing room finally I try this one on. Thankfully this photo is not of me in it – obviously – but well I felt black was a little dull. So.images…I tried on another 25 and by now hot, sweaty and grumpy I plumped (sic) for this one from Damsel In A Dress. Bright. Cheery. Machine washable. Yes I have complete aversion to dry cleaning anything. Ever. Grippy and lazy my two watch words.I_5055344785255_01_20151216So relieved off I run to check out, pay, run home, pack car, put sausage dog in car, drive to Aberdeen. Arrive, shower, open bag, realise new dress is still in Edinburgh 120 miles away so I have no option but to wear the original sausage skin.  I blame this stress on what happened next which I can’t quite bear to write down yet. Mortified. Tomorrow when my blood pressure returns to normal I will.

Badly behaved old bat (dehydrated)

PS Googling Damsel in a Dresses website and happily found this great Blog Damsel In A Dress from California which has nothing to do with that stripy thing above and everything to do with a great blog. Its on my blogroll from when I remember how to add it.

Aberdeen – The Silver City – love it!

It’s been a long haul. A long low slow lazy can’t be bothered to get up and at it haul to hoover out the blog and start afresh. But here we are.

IMG_3612With the sausage dog on board a new year full of adventure beckons. Here is my little ginger man in the back of the car with his mini-Schnauzer mates. That’s Basil on the left – and  Doris on the right. Three wee crackers, you can spot the tartan blankets as they were well wrapped and just getting their circulation back after a long walk along the beach in Aberdeen. Bbbrr.

We were up last week amidst the aftermath of the storm that wreaked havoc in the area. Dramatic scenes all around not least the sandy beach which was so covered in drift wood no-one could actually walk along it.

IMG_3592 IMG_3593Here’s a photo of a tree which was snapped off at the roots and carried through the churning sea to this lofty spot. It was wild, windy and cold but great. We had faces like well slapped babies bums, dogs like drookit wigs and an intense need for some food so we stepped into The Sand Dollar on the front. Overlooking the beach and sea their welcome was warm and their food delicious.Soup of the day and great hunks of warm bread and butter set us up for the brisk walk back to the car. It’s almost worth getting cold, wet and shivery just as an excuse to get in there and toast up.IMG_3590
Though I haven’t lived in Aberdeen for years. I love it. The silver city – it aye feels like home. But colder.

 

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