Christmas parcel – one Spanish mongrel – enroute to Scotland.

So here I go again.
Large mouth.Dog mad.
Heartbroken to see a photograph of a little hairy galoot online that was on death row in Spain because someone didn’t want him anymore. I followed the post for 2 days.
He was at the head of queue for the big nasty jab aka death and so I said “I’ll take him!”
And so ….he is on his way.

How old is he? Em…between 6 months and 12 years.
How big is he? Em…between small and huge. What’s his temperament like? Em….looks waggy but really can’t say.

Instincts having been dog mad since I was born are he looks like a gentle, hairy, cheeky mongrel with an extraordinarily waggy bahookey.. What do you think?

So his year thus far has consisted of… being chucked out from wherever he was and left in the kill station.
Then last minute reprieve sprung from death row.
The following morning off to the vet to have his bollocks removed. Ouch. What a high! What a low! What a shame. All within 24 hours. Gulp.

Next before he could draw breath and work out where the vet was that took his manhood, he was off again, this time to a foster home in Spain til his health check.

Happily he was given a clean bill of health which meant he could travel once his innoculations, rabies and passport is sorted.

And so he arrives here in Scotland on Sunday. No not the paper obviously.

From kennel, to vet, to foster carer, to kennels a 6 hour drive away as the Spanish authorities want to check he is who they say he is. So he stayed for 3 days being prodded and checked again. And now – right now as I write this he is on the pet transport with a host of other wee homelss, unloved dogs being dropped off all over England and Scotland. He will arrive here on Sunday night, it will be dark, very very cold, colder than he has ever imagined, he will be hungry, stressed, scared to death – he has no idea where he is. He arrives with no blanket, no collar, no bed, no real identity.

Suspicious. And for good reason.

And so we await. With bated breath. A new lead and collar. A TK Maxx bed tucked into a crate where he can sit and watch his new family before deciding when he wants to come out and say hello. In one corner he will see a suspicious sausage dog whose nose will be very out of joint. In another he will see a big bummed Aberdonian with a biscuit in her hand. We will report back as to how it goes…I have to confess this is a lovely Christmas parcel on it’s way….lets hope he thinks so too……


Wish us luck! It’s going to be a very Terry Christmas.



Travels with a sausage

I have been dreaming of going travelling with a dog for as long as I have been upright and on this earth. It may seem a strange thing to those who are not canine lovers like myself but having been born and brought up with dogs and never been consciously without one in my life it is the only thing – other than a great Rogan Josh – that I truly truly miss when I away from home for any length of time.

So this is the year. With a new puppy on board – a miniature wiry daschundImage I am off travelling with my sausage.

I will update from France, Spain, England, Scotland and any other places we trek from the dogs eye view as well as my own. Its a diary for my own amusement and if you enjoy it, so be it.




Dog tired -the man not the dog.

As a follow up to my column in The Daily Record  about our dear old dog Sam…..

Here is the photo that sort of sums up her feelings when my dear long suffering husband flew back from Spain to Scotland psyching himself up to accompany her to the vet for the dreaded euthanasia.

You can read about the run up to this by clicking this link but sometimes pictures say so much more than words.



Winter toasty toes

What do you mean those marshmallows aren't for me?

If you share your life with a terrier you will know the word terrier must come from the word terrorist. Small in stature, monumental in personality our home is run by this one, the scruffy, hairy article pictured at the top of this page lying giving the evil eye. The reason? We had the audacity to toast a whole bag of big pink and white mushrooms on a fork until they were bubbling, brown and meltingly gorgeous. Eating them all without so much as a scrap for the terrorist as you can see went  down very badly indeed. She is making us suffer.

Meanwhile the lab cross just lies around looking sorry for being alive. ‘Sorry I love you, sorry I really love you. By the way did I tell you I LOVE YOU.’ her eyes say.

Her ingratiating behaviour has just considerably worse as we welcome Nelly the lurcher into our midst. Mum popped in for a cup of coffee 10 days ago and thanks to the snow is still here.

Nelly is a long, tall, spindle. I call her my own personal spirtle, she is pointy but delicious and as you can tell by her barnett another terrorist. So as the terrorists join forces and lie by the fire they just focus on Sammy the lab for the hell of it. I know there is going to be trouble. Mainly for me as I will have to share the couch with all three dogs and their 12 legs. Still cheaper than British Gas I can recommend them as toe warming, heat seeking, snuggle blankets. And remember Edinburgh Cat & Dog Homes are always looking for happy homes for their array of scruffy mutts, sleek beauties and terrorists. There 3 all came from there and you couldn’t do any better in the world.

Winter fluff, dog, sheep, sock
Greyfriars Bobby muscling in