I've Been on Holiday

Hello me old muckers...

I haven't blogged for a couple of weeks because I've been on me holibags.

I took me humans on a walking holiday - we walked St Cuthberts Way from Melrose to Lindisfarne.  Sixty five miles in 5 days.  It was great fun although not without incident, so I thought I'd spend the next few weeks writing me diary of the adventure.

Here's part 1 for you:

Actually, the story starts before the holiday...

You see, I'm a somewhat hairy fella and sometimes that causes issues in me nether regions.  I think the technical term is 'clinkers'.  Nuff said?

Anyway, me humans had enough of the clinkers so they took me to the vet.  Gawd, how I hate that bloke.  And he gave me a shave.

The problem was he shaved me a bit close and it was very uncomfortable to have the wind blowing round me whotsits... so I kept sitting on 'em, to keep 'em warm, as it were.  The problem was me humans mis-interpreted this as me backside hurting.  It wasn't that at all... it was embarrassing!

Don't believe me?  You cut a hole  in the bum of your trousers and walk around for a day... then you'll see how embarrassing it actually was.

Anyway, we parked up in Melrose and then it was straight up the Eildon Hills.  Me humans didn't slow me up too much, but I was running around a lot.

It was lovely; sun shining, fresh air, grass to roll in.  The only fly in the ointment was that they did insist on being put on their lead everytime they saw those woolly things in fields... as though they couldn't trust themselves not to chase them.

Persoanlly, they didn't bother me much.

After lunch we turned on to the banks of the Tweed and disaster struck.

Richard was on his lead and I decided to investigate a bee that was flying around a flower.  How was I to know he wasn't concentrating?

Mind you, the yell of pain as he twisted his ankle was truly impressive.  He shouted so loud he actually dribbled.  Pathetic.

Of course, he immediately told everyone that his ankle was sharttered in at least six places but he would walk on without complaining.

Ha!

There was more bleating than from those woolly things in the fields.

Anyway, despite his broken ankle (which miraculously recovered the next day) we tramped on to a place called Harestanes, where we were staying the first night... except we weren't... staying there I mean.

When Richard rang, the landlady told us we were still 3 miles away and we'd already done 14!

I shan't repeat what Renee said to him.  Have you ever seen a Labradoodle with his fur standing on end?  No?  You would have done if you'd been there while I was listening to that exchange.  Shocked I was.

Anyway... we made it.  And very, erm, rustic, the B & B was, too.  Nothing for it - an early night and hope the fur grows on me back end over night!