Innerdownie: First Donald Bagged

With a fledgling interest in hill walking and an apparent death wish (I was in the beginnings of a flu-ey cold that would last a good 4 weeks), I decided to start at the bottom (no pun intended), not to climb a Munro, but a Donald!

Most people have heard of Munro bagging but if you’re semi-sensible (or just want to work your way up to it) then you first have to go through the Donalds (and maybe the Corbetts and Grahams!).

The Donalds are hills in the Scottish Lowlands over 2000 feet (609.6 m). The list was originally compiled by Percy Donald, and is maintained by the SMC. It comprises 89 summits and 51 subsidiary tops, giving a total of 140 hills.

Naturally, we chose to climb the lowest - Innerdownie - at a still hefty 2004ft.

When we started out the weather was clear but very quickly the clouds descended until you couldn’t see more than a couple of meters in front of you. There wasn’t much view to miss out on at this point in the walk but it did make me a little more grumpy than if it had been a glorious day!

I don’t think Tilly was particularly pleased either as low cloud meant we were walking through a wall of water!!

Luckily for us, the clouds lifted soon after and we finally made it to the top with only one wrong turn!

The downward journey was a little bit more eventful and unfortunately included one more wrong turn. We found ourselves traversing a path right alongside the edge of the forest in plants that were as tall as we were.

Another unfortunate circumstance was that I tend to get the giggles at really inappropriate times. As we battled through the plants and willed ourselves to the bottom of the hill (all the while seeing a lovely clear path through the fence to our other side - upsettingly blocked by a small ravine and our own obstinacy that we shall not turn back!!) I got such a fit of the giggles. I was laughing so hard that I had to stop and take a breather.

It was not funny.

That made it funnier.

We made it to the bottom in one piece and drove home. It was then I realised how unwell I really was as I couldn’t swallow any food and was running a very high temperature. Oh well - at least I have pictures to prove that I actually climbed my first Donald. If I didn’t then perhaps I would have thought it was a hallucination.

I’ve got another few Donalds on the list before I work my way up higher. But they might wait until after this bad winter we’ve had predicted!!

5 signs your dog is trying to kill you

Isn't my little puppy cute and sweet?

Well, that's what I always thought... until I started to notice certain things.

Little things.

Things that I might have overlooked as quirks of character or foibles of a young pup.

Except that I've been watching too much of the crime channels of late, specifically Unusual Suspects and Snapped!, and something came to me.

Perhaps she wasn't as sweet and innocent as I had come to believe. Perhaps she did, in fact, have a dastardly plot to bring harm to my personage. To actually kill me!

As a service to others who find themselves in this terrible situation, I have put together a quick list of my experiences that will hopefully help you discover if your dog is trying to kill you.

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1. After a long day, both myself and Tilly returned home. Tilly was desperate to get into the back garden so I let her roam free. I returned to another room and started tidying up. Not five minutes later Tilly came dashing in. As soon as she saw me she stopped in her tracks, stared at me for a second then turned tail and ran back outside.

If this happens to you, your dog has obviously had an assignation with a hired hitman who has been hiding in the garden waiting for you to return before doing the hideous deed. She has told the hitman where you are and what you're doing. That was the final check to make sure you're still in the same location. Be vigilant - your dog is watching you. So is the hitman.

2. I woke from a pleasant dream the other night to find my adoring puppy sitting on my chest, pressing delicate kisses onto my cheeks and nose. It was time to get up and she immediately rushed off towards the back door in happiness at starting the day.

Don't be fooled by this display of affection. What really happened was she was attempting to suffocate me by standing on my chest to restrict my breathing. She popped her face close to mine only to see if it was working - not to kiss me good morning. When I inconveniently woke up, she scarpered away, unwilling to be caught in the act.

3. I have often found that I walk and my dog follows. I stop and she stops. I turn around to find her staring at me without blinking. My dog adores me and wants to be with me always, says I.

Wrong. If you notice this behaviour, your dog is following you and learning your habits. Watching and waiting. Be wary. Change up your routine once in a while.

4. As I eat my food I will often look down to the floor to see my little pup staring at me with drool in her chops and desire in her eyes. Truth be told, she would be wonderful for those RSPCA adverts because she pulls off the 'starving dog' bit with aplomb! All she wants is a teeny tiny piece of my delicious food. How could I resist?

Well, if this happens to you - you must resist! Give them an inch and they'll take a mile. Meaning, if given the opportunity, my pup with the pleading eyes would eat all the food on my plate and in my cupboards. Yep - she's trying to starve me to death. This is probably the only scheme that I am unconcerned about - it's going to take a loooong time to starve me!

5. Walking is one of the favourite activities of my dear pup. She takes every opportunity to take me for a jaunt around the park, the streets, down the beach and anywhere and everywhere else in between.

What could be wrong with this, you ask. It gets me exercise, burns the calories and get me some fresh air. I have one picture for you that sums up how this extends into a plot for my demise...

This may be the one that gets me.


Is your dog trying to kill you? If any of these are happening to you - the answer may be yes!

Well, ow! (Or a lesson in why a simple task may go ridiculously wrong!)

Let's set the scene:

Last night I was having a rough time of it with my UC. I don't really like to be around people when I'm feeling so shitty (no pun intended but funny and apt all the same!) but I have to take Tilly for a walk and thought I could cope. Possibly a mistake but that's neither here nor there for my story.

This evening, feeling infinitely better, myself, Tilly and my Dad went on a walk in our local park. The weather had been a mix of glorious sunshine and downpours all day meaning that Tilly hadn't been out for any exercise and was feeling a bit, well, excited! I was also excited about how much better I felt and that I had no ailments this eve.

We set off across the grass and into the woods, Dad and I keeping a sedate pace while Tilly darted around and possibly broke the sound barrier on many an occasion.

We got to the path to the beach and Tilly disappeared into the scrub trying to chase the bugs, squirrels, birds, deer, pterodactyls...

And then we came upon a stunning sight of the sea, as clear as glass yet mottled by the near setting sun blinking through the trees. Then, to give it a tiny bit of something more, a rainbow appeared on the land at the horizon.

Dad: Oh! Would you look at that view? I wonder if I could take a picture? *Starts fiddling with his phone.*

Tilly: *Bounding from the undergrowth* Look at me! Look at me! I found some giant pieces of spiky plant seed that are now stuck to my legs! Wait - I don't like them! Get them off! Get them off!

Me: Silly Tilly. Come and I'll get them off for you! *Picks them from her legs and notices a wasp in her tail.* Oooh, oooh, Dad, help!

Dad: *Mumbling* Pretty view. Cameras. Golf. iPhones. Jaffa Cakes.

Me: Help me!!

Dad: Oh! Sorry, I wasn't listening. Did you see the lovely... no, right - what can I do?

Me: Could you take that stick and try to flick the wasp from her tail while I hold her still, please? *Indicates stick to be used*

Dad: Ready? Steady? Go! *Flicks stick at Tilly's tail with an enthusiasm that was inappropriate to the situation.*

That's when time slowed down. I should have known something was up when everything started moving suspiciously like it was moving through treacle.

So, let's slow our story down too, for a quick lesson in sense. If you are flicking something off something else, where do you direct the flicking thing?

That's right - away from anything or anyone else!

Dad flicked the wasp right onto my leg.

Did I mention that I wear cut off joggers for walking in the summer? Because I do. A fact that Dad knows good and well.

Me: *Loud high pitched scream* It's on my leg, it's on my leg!

Wasp: Ha ha! Bare legs. *Stings*

Me: *Jumping around like a moron* It got me! It got me! I'm stung! Tell everyone I love them...

Dad: Cyclist coming.

Cyclist: *Whizzes down the hill while we all pretend that we're normal people in normal situations.*

Cyclist disappears.

Me: Owwwwwwww!

Dad: *Sheepishly/Grumpily* I didn't mean to flick it on your leg.

Me: *Very grumpily* That's neither here nor there. I must get to the sea. *Hobbles off towards the sea to wash my leg in salt water.*

After washing my leg in the sea, I hobbled back up the beach to where Dad was standing looking out to sea all Captain Sparrow like.

Dad: It is beautiful out there, isn't it?

Me: *Evil glare*

We walk back up the beach. Oh wait, Dad walks while I limp. Tilly bounds after some ravens.

Dad: Perhaps I just hit you with the stick? Or flicked you with my finger?

Me: *Unsubtle glare* Excuse me?

Dad: I mean, perhaps it wasn't the wasp. Perhaps it's just a scratch from the stick. *The poor thing doesn't even see the dangerous path down which he walks.*

Me: *Turning into the hulk* I can tell you by the pain that I. Have. Been. Stung.

Dad: Hmmmm.

Me: This is my first wasp sting - if I die, I'm coming back to haunt you! *Stomps hops away*

The walk continued and I managed to make it to the park gates without much pain (although I did keep getting sharp stabbing pain every now and then - should I be worried?).

As we reached the gates this happened:

Dad: Perhaps you did get stung - it does look quite red.

Me: Oh good - thank you! I'm sorry that my pain wasn't enough proof for you! *I don't even need to point out that this was sarcasm!*

Dad: Wasps can just land on you without stinging you, you know. *Nods sagely*

Me: *Through gritted teeth* Really?


So here I sit, my leg/ankle thing a little bit swollen, feeling a bit crap and about to go and put wasp stings into WebMD. If you don't hear from me for a while, I have fashioned a leg amputation device using flint and dods of wood and am now in the hospital. Whether that's the normal hospital or a mental health facility remains to be seen.

Miss Tilly...

In my life my family have had three dogs: Misty, Pepper and Rosie.

When I decided to get Miss Tilly, I would have (and did) swear up and down that I knew what it took to look after a dog. I knew what I needed to know and I was ready - it would be a breeze.

I suspect now that this kind of thinking is akin to someone reading a parenting manual and deciding that they are an expert in having and rearing children.

Erm, no.

Miss Tilly is a bundle of fun, excitement, annoyance, love, energy, joy, dirt - I could go on.

I love her to pieces but I have to admit that she tests the patience at times. I still wouldn't swap her for the world but I would quite like to go back in time and slap my smug self who said she knew what she was doing.

Note to self - I don't know what I'm doing!

My biggest problem is being mad. Not getting mad but staying mad.

How are you supposed to be mad, get angry and mete out discipline when you get this thrown in your face each and every time?

It's a skill, I tell you.

The other way in which punishment can be avoided is by being too darn funny. Miss Tilly can turn on the humour when she spots that she might be in a sticky situation.

There you stand, mid-rant when she excuses herself to, em, well, lick her bits. You can do little but laugh at that lack of respect.

She also manages to choose the most ridiculous items to run away with. She stole several of my canes out of the shed (for supporting plants before anyone assumes anything that they shouldn't!). One by one, she plucked them from the shed, running out each time and hiding them at the back of the garden. The fact that they were easily three times the length of her made it too funny to chastise her. God help me when it comes time to plant up my veggies this year.

That event was also mirrored when I decided to put soil in some pots ready for starting some seeds this week. I put the soil in a number of pots and then decided to move them all to a place where they wouldn't be blown away in the dregs of the coming storm. I took a couple over to the shelter, returned only to find two of the remaining pots were tumbled and the soil trickled all over the patio. Confused, I picked them up, scooped up the soil and took a further two over to the shelter. Returning again the same had happened - more pots turned over and more soil all over everything. Then I saw the culprit sitting pretty on the grass beside the patio. Miss Tilly bounded up to me and looked so happy to have helped me with my game. She jumped up with her muddy paws and kissed me with her muddy mouth. Humour and affection abounded - I would tell her off the next time! Honestly I would.

But the next time was this:

And she didn't get into trouble here either. I mean, could you discipline this face?

Didn't think so.

So I'll have a terror for a dog. But a cute terror.

More Conversations with Tilly...

Just over six weeks in and things continue to be, well, strange regarding with my dealings with Tilly.

I find myself moving into the role of grown up - a real grown up - where I am the disciplinarian and the person that always says no. It's disconcerting and I feel rather like a giant stick in the mud. Is this what happens when you become a parent?

On the other hand, my mum and dad have taken on the role of "the indulgent ones" who spoil and rile Tilly up and send her back to me. I feel there might be some sort of payback going on here. It's definitely suspicious!

And there continue to be more conversations with Tilly of a strange and disturbing nature as evidenced below:

"Well, em, I really don't know what I'm supposed to say about this..."

Said to Tilly when I discovered all the heads of my snowdrops sitting neatly beside the pot of (now headless) snowdrops. All the while she looked at me with an expression that clearly said: Look what I did - are you proud? No. The answer is no, I'm not!

"Kindly stop licking the wall."

"Don't worry - it's just a prostitute!"

I had paused the telly during an episode of Cops and it just so happened to freeze frame on a *cough* lady of the night. In an appalling (yet hilariously well timed) twist of fate, the reason that I had paused the telly was because my sister had started a video chat with me and her face had just appeared onscreen. So, it may have appeared to some that I was referring to her. Oops!

"You really don't want to eat that."

Think of everything you wouldn't want to eat and things it's not possible to eat, and there's a good chance that I've said the above in reference to that object.

"Come out of the dishwasher."

No word of a lie - this has been said more than once! I'm talking full body in the dishwasher.

"It's okay, I don't like him either."

Said when Tilly ran inside in fear because my odd neighbour was being very noisy.

"If you eat him, he won't be there anymore."

Some wise words about life given to Tilly regarding the orange pony (who, like the pink pony, also no longer has a nose).

 "You're almost through to Australia, for crying out loud!"

Said in horror when I saw the extent of the hole Tilly was digging in the path.

No doubt more daft things will be said soon. I just wait for the day that she answers me back!

Conversations with Tilly

Looking after Tilly is a little more exhausting than I ever suspected. Although don't get me wrong, it's also a lot of fun.

I've read so many articles about how to properly train your puppy that I feel like I'm becoming something of an expert. Having said that, whether I'm following through on the advice is another story all together.

Once piece of advice that has stuck in my mind is, "Don't speak to your dog as if they can understand English - speak in one word commands which they are more likely to understand."

Well, taking this advice, I decided to write down some of the conversations that I've been having with Tilly over the last wee while. In one word commands. Obviously.

"Goddammit - you've broken the sperm!"

Said to Tilly when she got hold of, and chewed, my house keys which sport a classy glow in the dark sperm keyring.

--

"Well, only one of us is going to have a pink pony nose in their poo and it sure as hell won't be me."

After Tilly ate the face of a bright pink My Little Pony.

--

"You don't see me eating my bed, do you?"

 --

"I sincerely hope you're not pooing in the hall!"

Shouted from the kitchen when things went suspiciously quiet.

--

"Honestly - if I've told you once I've told you a thousand times - don't put your bum in my face"

 --

"Leave my boots - eat your horse."

 --

"You can read the book but please don't eat it."

Meet Tilly...

It's 2014 and I am currently out of the rat race. Whether this is temporary or permanent remains to be seen but more about that later.

With time on my hands and the knowledge that 2014 is going to be the most AWE-SOME year, I did something that I've wanted to do for years and have been planning for almost as long. I got a puppy!

Meet Tilly.

She's a liver and white cocker spaniel. She's too cute for words, enjoys eating stones (why?) and for such a small thing, she has already bruised my arm, fingers, ear, nose and neck!

Today she learned to bark.

I was at a crossroads. Did I acknowledge the total adorability of the cute little bark by laughing, smiling and treating her like the clever dog she is? Or, in order to make sure barking doesn't become a persistent occurrence, should I put a harsh look on my face, shake my head and give a firm no.

I'm a responsible dog owner so I did the right thing. I looked at her in shock and then started to laugh uncontrollably. I'll decide which path to take the next time she barks at me!

I have to admit that she's exhausting! I'm also currently flaring so to say I'm wabbit is a tiny bit of an understatement. Luckily, not being in the rat race means that I don't have to do my hair, make-up, clothes, shower or any of those other pesky things!!

But welcome to Tilly. She'll be a fab friend
k,
mn

I'm leaving the above in - that was Tilly bouncing onto the keyboard as I typed!!

Good times!