“Only his mother could love him”

So, dae any o’ youse play petanque?  Ah dae.  Do any o’ youse get callouses on yer nose frae pushin’ the petanque balls?  Ah dae.  Ah might huvtae claim ACC (Accidents to Canines Compensation) ‘cos sometimes it gets red raw and ah might need a wee poultice.  Ma petanque demonstrations are becoming very popular.  I wont say that it’s necessarily the only reason folk come tae the vineyard but Ah’m certainly a main attraction.  It shows ah tak’ ma role seriously as public relations adviser.  Even as blood runs frae ma’ nose ah soldier on in all weathers, pushin’ petanque balls (through pain and sufferin’) just so’s tae mak the customer satisfied.  Ah’m quite a martyr tae it.

Mind you ah was awfie embarrassed the other day.  Ma Ma came tae visit – no’ ma Ma, ma real Ma (frae Ngarawahia).  She lives in Greytoon noo wi’ an offy nice wummin ca’ed Janet.  So there wus I, entertaining the punters wi ma petanque ba’ when, without a by your leave, upsteps this very smart lookin’ wummin (dug).  She was beautifully coiffeured an’ aw that stuff, quite stunning really (the dug that is – oh aye and the wummin too). 

“Hey McLeod come and meet yer mither” says ma Ma (human).  Well Ah was black affronted.  Here wus I with biddy bids in ma fur, ma nose shiny frae a’ the petanque and ah had tae meet this glamorous wummin (an’ her mistress).  Well, of course ah wis pleased tae see her – recognized her right away.  We had a wee sniff thegither – nice.  But, ah was that embarrassed by my appearance that ah felt ah had tae get back tae work, tae ma petanque balls and lookin after the customers.  It wis great tae see her but ah hope she gives me warning next time so’s a kin smarten masel’ up – and maybe let ma nose heal a bit.

By the way, it’s vintage now and they’re a’ busy picking the grapes and bringing them into the winery.  Baxter has been great at showin’ me the ropes.  Basically, you sit beside the de-stemmer crusher and wait for them to tip over the grapes intae the crusher.  Of course, they don’t all get in the hopper and the spillage is free game for smart young dogs like us (well me – Baxter may be smart, hard to tell, but he sure isn’t young).  I haven’t decided whether ah prefer pinot noir to sauvignon blanc.  Ah might just like them both.  Mind you – everything in moderation.  First time oot ah overdid it and threw up in the kitchen beside the cat’s food bowl.  That pit the cats aff so ah ate the cat food anyway and that put ma stomach tae rights.

So, we’re half way through vintage.  Ah’ve no’ been sick again.  The Riesling’s lookin’ nice.  Ah’m quite a connoisseur y’know.  Till next time – bottoms up!  Which reminds me – don’t laugh – ah’m goin’ tae dog obedience classes wi’ ma Ma.  Every Tuesday.  They ask me tae ‘sit’ and ‘lie doon’ and ‘come’.  Right, let’s get real here.  How can they tell if ah’m sittin’ or ah’m doon?  It’s a’ the same tae me.  “Come’ is different an’ ah’ve no’ mastered that yet but who cares?  Ah’m no’ fussed!!

Scots wa hae.

“My luv is like a red red rose (very expensive)”

It’s over.  She’s up and offed back tae University, never a by your leave – naethin’.  Ah’m devastated.  Whody thought?  Me? A handsome young buck like me?  It’s hard tae believe.  Admittedly Ah’m a wee bit vertically challenged but to be thrown over by a young slip o’ a thing….  Actually, ah think she still fancies me – probably crying hersel’ tae sleep in her wee dormitory – poor wee lamb.  Ah was going tae buy her a rose for Valentines Day.  As it happened ah got masel’ some Schmackos instead and felt much better – money well spent.  It would have been all too expensive – chasin’ a bird – us Scotties have got tae be canny wi’ oor bawbees.  Anyhow, plenty more fish in the sea, ‘cept ah don’t fancy fish.

"Me and ma caur"

So, the folks came back back frae Scotland, intae Summer Shakespeare (they were offy nice people), veesitors from Hong Kong then Ma and Pa’s auld freen’ Robin and Linda came to visit.  Started school thegither (Pa and Robin) when they wus five.  Hard tae imagine them as five – sad old codgers.  It was bad enough Ma and Pa gaun’ aff tae Scotland wi’oot me but aff they go wi’ Robin and Linda to the South Island (Dunedin and a’) again wi’oot me.  At least they admitted it wus a hoaliday this time. 

Ah wus left wi’ a lodger.  She was nice enuff, in fact very nice indeed but y’know ah think ah may be beginning to get a wee bit fond of the old folks.  Ma’s a bit like me, a wee terrier.  She’s aye on the go.  Whereas ah’ve no idea how he spends his time – sleeps more than Baxter as far as Ah kin see.  Anyways, aye, ah missed them.  They got back in time for the Wine harvest Festival (trust them).  Apparently, it wis a great day and great fun.  Ah stayed behin’ at Gladstone tae take charge o’ operations there.

Talkin’ of operations (which I wasn’t) the latest news is ah’ve been tae the vets again.  No’ quite sure what happened there as ah’ve no’ been sick.  In fact ah’m as fit as a fiddle.  Apparently I had a wee Op.  Anyhow, whatever it was, there’s been a lot o’ wee snidey comments and jokes gaun around centred oan me.  Apparently, they’re sayin’ Lana, Gerard the winemaker’s ten foot tall Rhodesian Ridgeback is now safe from my amorous advances.  Ah don’t get it.  Ah don’t even fancy her.

By the way, apparently chasing the hens under the nets is aff limits.  Ah’ll need tae look up ma contract.

Vintage is comin’ up soon so ah’ll let ye all know soon enough how that’s gawin’.  Let the sun shine!

Abandonment

Yeah Gidday (tryin’ tae mug up oan ma kiwi accent)

Anyway, no sooner have ah arrived than off they go – the pair o’ them, and tae Scotland of all places.  Here’s me jus’ settlin’ in and they’re up an’ oot.  Anywise ah was left with Sara and frankly if ah wisnae a dog and just ane foot high ah’d marry her.  Ye see, ah hid this wee leg strain (from chasin’ they cats) and ah thocht ma leg wus broke.  Well, it wisnae but Sara just treated me so right – aff tae the Vet was I, x-rays oh yes, no expense spared.  Must’ve cost Ma and Pa an airm and a leg (gettit?).  Anyway serves them right – leavin’ me like that.  At least ah’ve got Sara (I think it may be love).

Back they come all fu’ of themselves – “how’s ma wee boy?” They says.  I gave them the cold shoulder (sma’ as it is) and so did Baxter except he’s deef and hadnae noticed they’d gone (and wus back).  Sky couches, tapas in Madrid, wine fair at Lord’s Cricket Ground (Nursery End), Winchester Cathedral, Liverpool and the Cavern (fab eh!), rellies and freens in Glasgow, St Andrews (home of golf), Melrose (home of seevens) and London (home of the Tukie Embra – go on say it).  Business trip, some business trip, distributors, wholesalers, retailers - pull the other leg.  Actually don’t – ah’d fall over.  Ah kin tell a jaunt when ah see one.

“If music be the food of love, play on”.  Aye, me an’ the Bard are best mates.  “Let loose the dogs of war”.  Och aye that’s me right enough.  So, this week ah’ve got all these new freens – come up frae Wellington tae perform Twelfth Night right here at home.  Well, it’s ma favourite Shakespearian play.  Think ah’m jokin’?  Well just haud on.  Ah’m as cultured as the next man (dog).  Ah know ma Shakespeare and this is the best.  Thing is there doin’ it doon by my pond where ah go swimming, well up tae ma oxters.  They’ ve got this 1920’s theme – flappers, straw hats, boas and Noel Coward songs.  It’s really good – “Heaven, I’m in heaven.”

I wonder if Sara wid dance wi’ me??

Let the blogging begin...

Hello.  Och, aye the noo!!

Ma name is McLeod.  Ah’m the new Public Relations Advisor at Gladstone Vineyard.  A’ve this McLeod tartan collar (that ye cannae see).  A’m a Scottish Terrier but and A’m nearly six months old.  I wis born near Ngarawahia (in New Zealand, of all places) on the road tae Raglan so by rights I should be a Westie (West Highland Terrier, get it?) but am no’, am a Scottie.  I wisnae actually born on the road.  I was born in kennels wi’ ma brothers and sisters.

I missed them tae begin wi’ but my new uncle Baxter (he’s a boxer) has been muckle kind tae me and let’s me chew his legs.  He’s no’ much o’ a conversationalist but and disnae respond to my barking.  Actually, he disnae respond to much at all.  He’s a lot older than me.  He's so auld he's almost as auld as my Ma and Pa.

Ah’ve been made Public Relations Advisor at Gladstone Vineyard (posh eh!), I think, tae liven the place up a bit.  Ah get my board and lodgings (though I huvtae share with Baxter) and a fairly decent meal of a morning (though no porridge yet).  Otherwise I huvtae live off customer tips.  Ah’ve plenty o’ toys – a toy reindeer frae Christmas and a squeaky duck (excellent noise).  I like the two cat toys best, Freddie and Freda.  One’s a tabby and the other black just like me.  They’re good tae chase and I am sure next time ah’ll catch ane.

As Public Relations Advisor ah huvtae greet customers when they arrive; let them stroke and pet me (it’s nae bother); cruise the tables making sure everyone pats me again.  Ah’m pretty cute.  And then ah huvtae pick up odd titbits that fall on the grun’.  That’s the tricky bit – getting’ the customers tae drap stuff.

Anyway, I’ll keep in touch and let you know what’s happening here at the vineyard and how life is tracking.  I’ve got a lot to do to knock this place into shape but so far its been no’ sae bad.  Lang may yer lum reek.

Yours aye

(Lord) McLeod of Gladstone