Archives for September 2014

Chatsworth – Another Guest Post by Archie’s Dad

September 16, 2014 by Dad Leave a Comment

Chatsworth House, taken by Paul Collins. Found on Wikipedia.

Archie’s getting a little bit impatient with me, because he wants his blog back, but first I wanted to tell you about our trip to Chatsworth House and Garden in Derbyshire last weekend.

When I say “our,” I’m afraid that doesn’t include Archie. His Mum and myself went to stay with some friends in the Midlands, and we couldn’t take The Archieness with us. I don’t think he minded too much, though, as he went to stay with his real mum and half-sister, and I’m fairly sure he enjoys that. He came back exhausted – as he always does – which suggests that he had a good time.

To get back to our weekend away, on Saturday we went to visit Chatsworth House and Garden, which is near to Bakewell in Derbyshire. We last visited there about ten years ago, and it was good to go back to one of the most outstanding stately homes in England. It’s always been one of our favourites.

This short blog post is not intended to be a thorough review of Chatsworth, or anything like that. I just wanted to give it an honourable mention for the simple reason that they allow you to take your dog into the gardens. Many of these properties will allow dogs (on leads) into the grounds around them, but not into the gardens closest to the house. However, Chatsworth is one of the very few that will.

Chatsworth

And what magnificent gardens they are. At over one hundred acres in size, there is plenty of room to walk your dog and lose the kids. There are cascades, a towering fountain (which on full power can reach nearly three hundred feet high), a tree that squirts water at you, a maze, and countless other fascinating features.

If you are able to leave your dog somewhere and go inside the house, it is worth a visit. My favourite room is the library, which is lit as though it is evening, and very inviting it looks, too. And don’t miss the amazing picture of a violin painted on a door – you would swear it was a real instrument hanging there.

You can also walk in the thousand acres of grounds outside of the gardens. These grounds have the River Derwent running through them, and are stunningly beautiful. If you want to explore further, that particular area of Derbyshire is known as the Peak District, and would be one of my top places to visit in England for beautiful scenery and attractive towns and villages. Don’t forget to try a Bakewell Pudding while in that town – the Pudding is quite different to the Bakewell Tart, with which many people are familiar.

For information on visiting Chatsworth, please see the official website at www.chatsworth.org

To read more about Chatsworth, please see the article on Wikipedia

Okay, Archie – you can have your blog back now.

Filed Under: Places

Sooty and Scotland – A Guest Post by Archie’s Dad

September 16, 2014 by Dad Leave a Comment

Sooty hoping for ice cream

Archie’s meanderings on Scotland have brought back memories of when we used to take our caravan or camper van up there each autumn for a holiday. In those days we had a dog named Sooty. He was a rescue dog, and all we know is that originally he came from Wales, and was described as a Border Terrier cross. He was a little larger than Archie, but had a similar scruffiness and character about him which helped us to believe that he had some of the breed in him somewhere.

He was a much more laid-back dog than Archie. Much less “in yer face” but still very affectionate. We had him from when he was about eighteen months old to when he died, at about thirteen years old, and he left us with many good memories. One of my favourite memories of Sooty comes from his last visit to Scotland, although it has to be said that it is tinged with sadness.

When we first had Sooty, we lived in Hampshire, and my wife had a friend who had a Female West Highland White Terrier named Poppy. Sooty and Poppy became great pals, and used to go out for walks together. Sooty loved to run. He would somehow lower his body to make it more streamlined, and would then run like the wind. He could run so fast that it is hard to imagine any dog being able to outpace him. Whether he was on a beach or a field, he would run in huge circles, as fast as he could – and, of course, Poppy would try to keep up with him. Except that she couldn’t, so she would try to keep up by running around in smaller circles inside his.

Poppy’s Mum was Scottish, and eventually the family moved up to Scotland, while we moved to the east of England. As Scotland was now a much easier journey for us (get on the A1 and keep driving), we would go there every Autumn for at least two weeks. Sometimes we would be there for the fantastic Autumn colours, but sometimes we would be a little too early. Autumn colours or not, Scotland is an exceptionally beautiful country, and I recommend you visit if you haven’t already. We particularly love Perthshire, and would spend many hours by the various lochs there, or walking on Rannoch Moor.

Usually, at some point during our visit, we would head further north towards Inverness to visit Poppy and her family. Sooty, of course, got to know where Poppy now lived, and as soon as the front door of the house was opened he would burst in and go looking for Poppy. Towards the end of his life, Sooty was arthritic and had a bad heart. However, there were two circumstances where he forgot about his infirmities: the first was if he saw a cat, and the second was when he was with Poppy again – who was herself elderly by now. They would chase, play, and wrestle like puppies, until eventually it was time for us to leave.

On the last occasion we went there, Archie burst into the house as usual, and started to look for Poppy. He went from room to room, searching for her, but she was not to be found. She had died a little while before our visit. Eventually, Sooty gave up his search, and settled down to rest quietly. I like to think that he realised what had happened, and that he was grieving for his old friend.

As I said, that was Sooty’s last trip to Scotland. His own health declined – he had an enlarged heart and arthritis – so that although he was in good spirits, his body wouldn’t let him do what he used to. We took him to a heart specialist, who was able to give him another six months of quality life, but eventually his heart just gave up. During those last few months, we were due to move to the south-west of England with my job, and Sooty would come house-hunting with us. Sadly, he died just before we moved, but we brought his ashes with us, and he has a memorial in the garden.

After a while, we decided to look for another dog, and we were keen to find a Border Terrier. Quite quickly, we found Archie, and he came home with us. He is quite different to Sooty, as I’ve already said, but he too has a connection with Scotland. We used to visit a shop in a town in Perthshire, where a Border Terrier named Archie would often be seen. So when we found Archie, we thought it was a good name for him, and I have to say it suits him perfectly.

A characterful name for a characterful dog.

Filed Under: Places

Are Border Terriers English or Scottish?

September 9, 2014 by The Archieness Leave a Comment

All this hoo-ha about the upcoming vote on Scottish independence has got me wondering. Are Border Terriers English or Scottish? I assume they come from the Borders area between those two nations, but which nation exactly? It is at times like these that a Border Terrier needs to have an answer.

No dog wants to have an identity crisis, but this whole independence business in creating one in me. Should I be concerned about which way the vote might go? If my ancestors were Scottish, then maybe I need to go there and explore my roots – learning skills like haggis-hunting. If, on the other hand, they were English, then do I need to travel north in order to water Hadrian’s Wall?

It’s quite a dilemma, really.

To my great disappointment, my Dad doesn’t have any answers on this most important matter (admittedly, even when he does have answers, they’re often daft ones). All he says is that my predecessor was a Border Terrier cross who came from Wales (that’s even more confusing – could we be from the Welsh borders?). Mum and Dad used to go to Scotland regularly until a few years ago, and they met a Border Terrier in a shop there, whose name was Archie. My Dad thought that was an ideal name for the ilk, and so that’s how I got my moniker. So are we Scottish dogs, then?

It’s probably a bit politically incorrect to look at it this way, but do national stereotypes have anything to do with it? It Scots are seen as bold and fiery, while the English are seen as more reserved, then I’m definitely Scottish. I am definitely very in yer face, and one of my nicknames is Archie the Bold (or Archie-bold). Reserved just isn’t me.

What about colouring? I’m reddish in colour, and my Dad thinks that’s more Scottish. He says he used to see comedy red wigs for sale in Scotland, complete with tartan hat, and he always wanted to see a rather posh English colleague of his wearing one – I always said that my Dad was puddled.

So far, Scotland is winning, but more research is needed. My Dad had a look at a mug in the cupboard which has a picture of a Border Terrier on it, and a bit of information written on it as well. My Dad loves doing research like this – seeking answers from such authoritative sources. Sadly, it doesn’t answer the question, simply saying that we originate from the borders of England and Scotland (well, at least that eliminates Wales).

A Scottish Scene

My Dad then consulted Wikipedia, which was bound to have an article on Border Terriers. Now, what does it say about us? Intelligent…friendly…yes, of course – although it doesn’t mention how handsome we are.

Ah, here we are – history…Coquetdale…Redesdale…Northumberland! I’m English! Pity in a way, as I was just getting used to being a Scot and wondering how to bark with a Scottish accent. Now I have to learn Geordie. Do I have to support Newcastle United or Sunderland? My only real interest in a football is my desire to eat it.

So I won’t be voting in the Scottish independence elections, but as someone who was so nearly a Scot, I have to say that I hope our too nations don’t become too estranged.

Now, how far is it to Hadrian’s Wall?

Filed Under: Events, Places

Human Training (1)

September 2, 2014 by The Archieness Leave a Comment

The George Clooney of Dogs

I recently wrote about dog training, so I thought I’d better write about a much more important topic – human training. How is a dog to go about training his human(s)? It is, of course, vital that every canine learns how to do this, as it will result in a more comfortable, pampered life. So, I’ve decided to share some tips, and here’s the first in a series.

A major starting point for training humans is both in the way you look, and in the way that you look at them. The key is to put on your most cute face, and try to look innocent at the same time. If like me, you’re the George Clooney of dogs, this is very easy. But if you have the sort of face that looks like it’s been in an accident, you may have more of a challenge on your paws. Having said that, if you have a face that only a mother could love, and your human Mum chose you, then she must love your face. So, if that’s the case, try to major on the ugly. You could try grimacing somewhat (to make this easy, think of the last time you were made to have a bath), and I really recommend long strands of drool hanging from your mouth – that really piles on the “characterful” look in spades.

If like me, you’re really handsome, then you need to work with your natural style. Although I have the attractiveness of George Clooney, my hairstyle is more like Bob Geldof’s. So I emphasise that. It suits me and has all the human ladies swooning. Beware, though, if you have a Dad like mine. He often tries to smooth down my hair so as to try to make me look smart (he’s the sort of man who uses a comb every day, you see – at least he still has hair, even if he is old). My view, however, is that you can look smart and sophisticated without having every hair smoothed into place. So if my Dad does his smoothing bit, I immediately shake myself as hard as I can, and then go for a roll on the floor somewhere. That puts everything back out of place, and not only do I feel better, I look fantastic.

I mentioned that it is not only about the way you look, but about the way that you look at your humans. I have carefully cultivated a relaxed, innocent, butter wouldn’t melt in my mouth sort of way of looking at mine. I just relax my features, think blank thoughts, and Bob’s your uncle. It gets them saying “Aaaaaah” in that soppy way pretty quickly, and before you know it, you are being showered with strokes, cuddles, treats, food, and other things that a dog loves.

So there we have what I believe is the key to the whole business of how to get your humans to do what you want: look cute, and look at them cutely. In later posts I will share with you other steps you can take beyond this in order to achieve your goal of an obedient human.

Filed Under: People

Dog Training. Hmm…

September 1, 2014 by The Archieness Leave a Comment

I need a rest.

The picture describes how I felt after my Mum recently took me to a dog training class.

Now, I reckon that I’m pretty well trained – I know how to eat, sleep, walk, run, shed hair, lick, leave bones everywhere, and look out for cats*. So why do I need any training? (Believe me, you do – Dad). Mum and Dad say that I’m not obedient enough (moi?), and that I can get a bit upset around other dogs that I’m not sure I like. They would like me to be a bit more responsive to their wishes, and to turn the other cheek when another dog disses me – which is quite often.

Anyroadup, my Mum took me to this hall in a nearby village, where a regular dog-training class is held. We had to do some of the usual stuff like Stay and Come, and then doing an intertwining walk around the circle of other dogs with their Mums and Dads.

Although I say it myself, I think I did pretty well. I did more-or-less what I was asked to do, and did it more-or-less when I was asked to do it. The treats as rewards helped, of course. (I’m currently trying to come up with a ruse to get more treats per reward, but don’t tell my Dad about that).

The trouble is that the man who does the training frightens me a bit. I’ve seen him several times before, I’m sure he’s a very nice man, and I don’t feel any urge to bite him. But he does put the wind up me somewhat, and I tend to end up a quivering wreck whenever I meet him. Hence the picture at the top of this post – I really did feel the need for a lie down. It’s hard that the feeling is so intense.

Why do I feel the way I do? Maybe I don’t like being told what to do. Maybe I’m stubborn. Perhaps I just want to do those things that I want to do, rather than what others want me to do. I’m sure I’m not the only dog like that.

And it’s not just dogs. My observation is that humans can also be pretty reluctant to do what others want them to do. Kids seem to have a particular problem with it, but so do adults.

So the next time your dog doesn’t do what you want him or her to do, ask yourself the question: “Am I more or less stubborn than my dog?”

*Other things I’m well-trained in: snuggling up to my Mum, putting my chews on my Dad’s feet, jumping on the bed, sneaking under the duvet, head-butting unwary humans who get too close, complaining if I’m left alone, and flatulence. I’m sure there are others.

Filed Under: Events