A new dog on the Patch

A male Scottie aged 10¾, minus a few bits, all my own teeth, overweight, grumpy, single minded and with lots of attitude.

Likes: food, water, more food, more water, my own space, more food and more water.

Dislikes: gadgets including television, any large dog, closed doors, empty food and water bowls and a lot more, all of which will become apparent as we share my journey.

I live with Jim and Jean Clegg and yes I did meet Hamish Clegg, just before he died. I liked Hamish but he was just a boy, all his own teeth, all his own bits and yes a lady’s man! So before we go too far let me say that I am not like Hamish, I am grumpy and proud of it, strong in the mind and not at all bothered with the ladies of this world unless they feed me.

I like Jean: good housekeeper, nice cook, and very soft on Scotties!  What I want she fetches. I say jump, she says “How high?” Nice lady but what a pushover. That said, what about Jim? Well dogs and people, he is the biggest pushover of them all! Jean’s the housekeeper and Jim’s my butler, I demand a door to be opened, he opens it. Dog bowl low on water, he fills it, he make a fuss of me, my reward on demand is a biscuit, what a place for a rescue dog to arrive at, Scottie heaven. I even have my own patch: a sleek and saucy blue-roofed little number, and I’m more than a bit choosy about who visits.  I don’t mind telling you, I’ve  detected a particularly youthful scent around if a few times: I’m not having any young thing on my bit of blanket!

My Rescue Journey   
I arrived at the Clegg’s home in March 2010, just after your old pal Hamish died; grim times but I soon set about changing that! Some call me ‘vocal’ but I prefer the straight talking interpretation of ‘I want, I ask,’ they get me whatever I want.

It works, too! I don’t respond to training and why should I change? It’s always worked this way for me in the past. The Cleggs soon learnt my ways, and I can honestly say that you can teach the  Cleggs new tricks! I understand that the Deputy Leader of the Country is a Cleg. Perhaps it’s time that he had a Scottie, after all it worked with other political leaders, excluding President Bush. There’s  always one that proves the rule!

Opinion and Views
I’m an opinionated old chap, and I’m not going to apologise for it! I thought I’d conduct some comparisons between the human and doggy world.

Private or NHS?
Dog world: well thanks to the Cleggs and STECS, I have a private health plan, straight forward – a problems (for me bad lungs), I visit the vet, treatment follows, no waiting, bill paid, job done.

Human World: Jean’s got something called cancer; lots of visits to the Doctor and Hospital, queues for appointments, samples, treatment and yes, no bill but what a palaver. When that saying ‘it’s a dog’s life’, was created, it must have come from a Scottie rescue dog.

See you soon
Well it’ll be time for me to sign off soon: I need 18 hours of sleep per day at my age. Now that I have introduced myself, my next instalment will include my travels and more opinion and views from the old Scot with attitude.

Isla (our Editor) limits the size of my article. She’s another really old Scot with attitude. I have met her dogs, including the one who calls himself ‘Bad Boy,’ and has the conceit to ‘blog’ on the ‘Website’, whatever that is.
As for her Bad Boy; he’s another Hamish, a ladies’ man with too high an opinion of himself: a big woof, but not much to say! More on him later.  It appears that the click of my keyboard is being interrupted by a floppy set of ears, big paws, and a little yip.   Yes, readers, there’s a youngster in the house, and ,like all young things, thinks he’s worth hearing.

I’ll indulge him for the moment, and let him introduce himself. He needn’t think he’ll be taking over this column: that’s a grown-up’s game!

HI!
Thank goodness! I’ve been nipping at  that deaf old dunderhead’s tail for ages, but he takes such an age to type with one paw. What a technophobe!

I’m Archie. I’m young, perfectly formed, perfectly charming, and very new to the Clegg household. You’ll understand that my puppy yips aren’t as ponderous as that old boy’s grumbles – I’m the new kid in the kennel, and I’ll try to learn as I go. I gather I’m taking my place in a long series of Clegg Columnists – I’ve got big pawprints to fill, but time’s on my side.

MacTavish thinks he’s all special, snoring majestically in that silly  hutch of his . Even if he would let me in, you wouldn’t catch me in there: I’ve got a cage all to myself!  I’ll sign off now, but will try to keep control of the keys until next time!

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