Land of my Father's (I think?)

I thought I would show you all the proof that I did make it to Scotland.As you may know from my beginnings I am not to sure about my father (result of a holiday romance) but I am reliably informed that he was a Scottie SO.....
Still I do worry about the brown patches of hair on my chest- you never know.
I have a friend called Mariella who I licked this morning (she asked me to write this.

Encounters of the dog kind

Life is good every morning I get to dash around like a maniac with a couple of my Friends Charlie and Boots. No matter what the weather I roll in anything I can and I point blank refuse to answer my name until I have had a good play, that really infuriates the "tall one", to cheer him up I then have run after things he throws (quite a long way) AND bring them back! If he is so pleased that I bring them back- why throw them away in the first place?
Humans, I tell you- all they are good for is providing three good meals a day- still its a Dog's life!
AND I do get to play with the grandchildren in the park.

What a few weeks!

I bet you were wondering where I had got too?Actually Scotland (place i felt a great affinity for) we went for a holiday!
BUT the very "tall one" was ill and had to return home(with the rest of us of course)
I only got a few days sniffing round Scotland but it was good. I especially enjoyed the sea shore walks but as the afore said "Tall one" was ill no-one else took any photo's. the enclosed is me exploring a very wild and dangerous forest in Dumfrieshire.