Jake's Progress

The adventures of a lurcher in the Scottish capital


Jake meets Roomba

It's all right Jake, we still love you best

I first heard about the Roomba over at Dog-li-ness. I've coveted one ever since. What's not to love about a robot vaccuum cleaner?

This weekend we finally cracked and bought one. Our very own robot house elf. Fantastic.

Jake mostly ignores domestic appliances and the Roomba is no exception. He watched it with very alert ears at first but when we ignored it, so did he. He's showing no signs of stress, though as with the old vacuum cleaner he prefers to give it a wide berth. The only thing that did set him off was when it finished cleaning and docked with an electronic trill not unlike our doorbell. Jake went into full REPEL BOARDERS mode and had to be shown there was no-one at the door.

I must admit we were a bit concerned the first time we left Jake and the Roomba alone in the house together. Of course we would never leave it running with Jake unattended, even so I had visions of Jake rounding on it as it sat in its charger: "So now we are alone. Who will protect you now? Die. Die. Die." But Roomba has survived to suck up hairs as fast as Jake can shed them.

In one of those interweb synchronicity moments, today Johann posted a video of a robot dog on a seesaw. If it could only mop the floor as well ...

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King of (Crichton) Castle

We visited Crichton Castle on Saturday.

one day son, all this will be yours.

Who would have thought Jake would have so much fun in a ruined castle? He liked it more than we did! Scrambling up and down the spiral staircases ...

busy busy Jake trots down the stairs

... sticking his head thru the gun loops ...

Jake and the gun loop

peekaboo

... until we reached the very top, where Jake came over all fearty on the wooden slatted bridge. I thought his dislike of bridges was down to rushing water underneath but it turns out it's the slats, or to be more precise, the gaps between the slats.

scaredy dog

All in all, it was a very dog friendly spot - the custodian refilled the water bowl specially for Jake, and said (without us having to ask) Jake could go off lead as he was the only dog. Though the lead went on PDQ when a grey-muzzled Patterdale Terrier poked its nose round the entrance a little later.

to the manor born

He looks very pleased with himself. I suppose greyhounds would have lived there when it was inhabited in the 1500s, no doubt being surreptitiously bred with the locals' sheepdogs. The original lurchers!

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Eurovision

Hello, this is Edinburgh calling.
These are the results from the Lurcher voting.
Whippets: huit points.
Salukis: dix points.
Greyhounds: douze points!!!!
[the crowd goes wild]


Jakes yawns. Gives up trying to beg humans to give up their barbeque. Retires to friends' sofa until humans stop drinking and shouting at the telly.

I liked the Latvian pirates.

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On manoeuvres

We have been away for a week, doing the pre-Christmas visits. 800+ miles!

First leg: from Edinburgh to Tyneside. Jake was delighted to see one of his biggest fans, Gus’s aunt. So many little treats slip his way from the table! Plus she lives a mere minute's walk from huge expanses of beach.



Second leg: from Tyneside to Nottingham. Jake has to share the back seat of the car with Rod, as auntie sits in the front passenger seat next to Gus (family chauffeuse). The pain is reduced by the traditional excellent doggy bag from our favourite pit stop, a pub near Thirsk.

Third leg: from Nottingham to Stockport. Auntie is left in Nottingham with Gus’s family. This is a bit of a sad visit as last time we visited Rod’s sister, there were four elderly dogs, and now only Pepsi (grand old lady of 15) survives. Whimper. Here's Jake with the pack in happier times.



And so back to Nottingham. Jake stoically endured a visit from the Leicester niecelets, who vie with Jake for Gus and Rod’s attention. A couple of years ago, when Jake was demonstrating his spin trick, our oldest niece spontaneously started spinning too. This time she is much too grown up (at 5) for that, but our 2 year old niece took up this important family duty. (What is it with toddler and dogs? Jake and I were once in the park with the weaves and a little girl of about 3 ran up and did a perfect weave herself. Jake looked philosophical.)

There were times when the whole family reunion was great – rich pickings fell accidentally from toddlers and deliberately from doting older ladies. Other times Jake was bored with us all but didn’t want to go into his crate, so he found the next best place under the ladderax.

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Security briefing

Once a month, Chief Security Officer Jake is faced with a most perplexing challenge.
He is used to surveying the street from his command centre: the bay window of our first floor flat (for those in north America – this translates as “second floor apartment.”) . From on high, Jake watches the world go by at street level. He keeps an eye out for his people and his other friends. Everyone is small and far away.

Except then a MAN WITH LEGS A STOREY HIGH appears right at face level, tapping at the window. ALERT! ALERT! All security systems activate! Jake bounces up and down, ger-WOOFing at the man, who stares straight ahead, stony faced, wiping the window with his squeegee.

Chief Security Officer Jake is pleased to report that he has seen off the suspicious character. Except – next he reappears at the kitchen window! ALERT! ALERT! All security systems activate! Ger-WOOF!

And then the study! And … and… and…

Strangely enough when Chief Security Officer Jake goes downstairs to check out who rang the doorbell, the man at the door collecting money for cleaning the windows has somehow telescoped his legs and appears to be normal height. WAG-WAG-WAG-WAG

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snug as the proverbial shibo inu in a bodysuit
Back after a couple of months off. Rod has had a gammy leg pretty much since the last post and Jake is learning to be an assistance dog by finding slippers. Anyhoo! Try to imagine getting this onto Jake before a winter's walk.

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We are back from a holiday in Skye! In which we met hardly any other dogs at all. Perhaps it is because in the Highlands dog owners are expected to intercept dog crap before it hits the ground.
poo now, you little blighter
It was so beautiful! And so full of sheep and lambs. Even so we had a some great walks without incident, and Jake made the best of the one properly sandy beach we found. (Thanks to a tip from work chum to head to Glen Brittle). There were some fine shingle beaches and some fine seaweed-sludge traps (on day one, walk one, both Gus and Jake arrived back in the holiday cottage plastered in stinky BLACK oom-ska).
crivvens! sand!
However there's a lot to be said for Portree -
The cute harbour ...
can we go to the chippy now?
... the fine dining ...
mines a haggis supper
... the opportunities to practice recall in heart-stopping situations, er scenery ...
maybe i'll ignore the rabbit after all
And with one exception, every pub we went into was happy to have Jake in, even where food was being served, making the smooth transfer of left-overs to dog much easier. Particular kudos to the Stein Inn, the oldest pub on Skye to allow Jake to sit at our feet.

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The workmen are back for a few days, finishing off the bits and pieces from the house refurb. And Jakey is chumming all the workmen for their lunches. At one point yesterday I realised I couldn't find Jake, and found him sitting on the stairs, trying to hypnotise joiners into giving up their soup, sandwiches and to the bafflement of one, his smoothie. Kind of hard to explain that Jakey is used to being given empty actimel pots to lick out, viz. -

Mmmmm Danone

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Sleeping beauty
Can this really be comfortable?
Get some pants, Jake!

"What do you dream of, sweet dog of mine?"

I am very sleeepy

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Ho ho ho!
Sorry, no pix of Jake after his festive bath, or of him in a santa hat. It's not been that sort of Christmas - we only got the house back from the contractors on Friday morning. Jake has been enjoying many fine pickings from the dinner table, however, and aunt Lillian to cuddle up on the sofa. Plus being back at home after 3 months at the temporary flat is great. Jake particularly welcomes the new radiators (so warm to sleep under) and his people are particularly pleased with all the new floors ... so much easier to wipe up Jake's dinner, pawprints, hairs shed by lashing tail und so weiter.

Jake celebrated Xmas morning with an unplanned bonus - we bumped into a rottie friend in the park who's on heat, and who didn't seem to mind when the half-pint Jakester clambered up ... several times. See the humans race across the park from all directions, crying nooooooo

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i'm not getting up and you can't make me
Someone call the SSPCA. There's a dog in Edinburgh being woken up when it's still dark outside to go for walks in the cold and wet. Look how he hates the lights being turned on when it's still dark outside. He covers his eyes with his cushion.









Mmmmm. Bed.
This is the Jake-approved solution. Note serene blissed out expression on a Sunday morning. In er, our bed.

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A picture says a thousand words. What a look of resignation as Jake is forced to stand next to yet another enormous allotment vegetable. I bet he's thinking that RinTinTin never had to pose next to a beetroot.
big ones, small ones, some as big as yer 'ead

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A spot of golden sun
Jake tells when he wants something by looking at it pointedly. Then at you. Back to what he wants. Repeat, sometimes accompanied by dramatic heavy sighs.

The object of desire might be your mug of tea. Your pot of yoghurt. Your sandwich. Or a spot of sunshine. “Please move the sunspot. It is on the windowsill and I can’t lie in it yet. Please. Please.” {sigh} {what do I have to do to get service in here?}

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Our neighbours are growing tomatoes in pots in their front yard. And some of the fruits are on our side of the railings. I'm trying to work out how to tell them that while we fumble with house keys, Jake has occasionally taken the opportunity to have an experimental little lick... Surely they'll wash the tomatoes before they eat them. Won't they?

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An everyday tale of mad-doglady nerdfolk.

Scene: Gus & Rod are in the kitchem supping Innis & Gunn.
Gus: I must upgrade Jake's blog. I want to sort out the archives & get the feeds working
Rod: [after laughing fit has subsided]Why?
Gus: It's important!
Rod: I'm sure Jake isn't down the park saying, Hey Bailey, I've got a blog.
Gus: No, he's saying Hey Bailey, my blog doesn't even have RSS feeds.
[fade]

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It's a tough life being a dog in Edinburgh's middle classes, being forced to walk between thunderous showers all the way to Dalry to put a cheque through the architect's door. Still, the Telfer Subway was a fragrant delight, and there was plenty of running and er, shagging in the park afterwards. For Jake, not Gus.

Jake's sexual reawakening means that I'm suddenly having a lot of conversations in the park about neutering. "Don't worry, he's been done," I say cheerily, pulling him off - if the bitch doesn't see him off herself. I'd forgotten how many people say their bitch has been dressed. (Always the bitches - never the dogs). It sounds so archaic. A Scots usage - I checked in the OED (online, hurrah for subscription via work) & the Concise Scots Dictionary (offline, paperback).

Last night it was Dior the rottie (perhaps not a wise choice, she weighs three time what he does), this avo Candy, a wee black dog cut from the same cloth as himself. But poor old Jake. He looks so triumphant when he's at it.

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Dear Roderick
Where are you? Most perplexed at your continued absence. Have had a busy day. Gussie was late taking me to the park and giving me breakfast and then I spent most of morning basking in the sun in the back garden. Then she just left me! Vanished! But came back with many plastic bags which I can assure you I have inspected most thoroughly. Mostly boring veg tho I can report some yogurt and hurrah! pork ribs and a strange yellow thing which smells like turkey but has legs and wings. Gussie then took me into the front yard and for no good reason I could see donned rubber gloves to empty the fabulously smelly bin into another sack, and then all three of us (me, Gus, Bin) went for a ride in the car. I felt like a prince, I can tell you, windows down, glorious rancid bin smells, the envy of every dog we passed. Gussie took us to a special stinky home for Retired Bins, where a nice man with no teeth put Bin into a special bedroom, and then she took me to run about on the big windy hill. There were rabbits everywhere! Fab! And a boxer to chase and Gussie had a ball and biscuits and then we came home and I had my tea and Gussie put the yellow thing in the oven and EVENTUALLY ate some of it (*and* she was drinking again) but she left the leftovers on the sink and then we played for a bit and when she seemed a bit squiffy I nipped into the kitchen but she noticed I had gone quiet and MY FAULT I made the tactical error of not coming when called and she came through and BUGGER
caught me with the carcass on the kitchen floor before I'd even got any more than a good lick. Ooh she was cross and made me lie down for what seemed like a thousand elephants while she rinsed it under the tap and then put it in a pan to boil (what's that about?) and cleaned up the whole kitchen but then she let me eat her leftovers and very nice they were too. Then we extensively tested the squeaky fish. I am now very tired. Will you be back tomorrow?

Love from
Your faithful hound
Jake

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Just put Anthony & the Johnsons on the stereo for the first time. Enter Jake in the doorway, aroof, aroof, pausing only to stare at the speakers with head cocked on one side in utter puzzlement. He's never reacted to music like that before. Obviously Anthony speaks to his doggy soul like no other. For today I am a dog...

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One year ago...
I visited the Edinburgh Dog & Cat Home & in the dogs' section saw a shivering skinny "lurcher-type." He was the only one that was silent. The kennel assistant took him into the yard and he seemed lovely, completely unperturbed by the thunder or by me. I emailed R. at work: "Saw a gorgeous dog which was a little whippety-lurcher (sic) with pepsi's markings but a smooth coat. Very sweet & on the edge of nervous, but friendly, and very interested in playing with other dogs." (ha!) We both went down to Seafield the following afternoon, and £55 later, left with Jake on a lead. It was touching that quite a few kennel staff came to say goodbye to him. He got his name in the taxi when the driver told us about a dog that came from Seafield that looked like a jackal.

We were absolutely crapping ourselves. Jake ran around the flat, sniffing everywhere, and then grovelled on the floor at our feet, before settling down on a cushion. We spent the first month petrified that his original owners would turn up and demand him back, but they never did.

That cowering whippet-sized dog seemed to fill out after a few weeks to become collie size. And when he's on swaggering on the beach the elastic lurcher seems to be more like a greyhound in height. H'mmm.

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Hurrah for the nice inn-keepers at our local, who played with Jake all night, let him go off lead, and gave him a promotional toy rugby ball. Regulars might want to note that Jake has pickpocket tendencies, & was caught about to filch something from a man's pocket ...

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And so it came to pass that on 21 December Prince Jake and his faithful retinue drove south. Strapped into his usual position on the back seat, Jake found himself rather higher than usual. The car was piled so high with dog blankets and other lurcher-coddling gear that he lay on his fleecy seat protector like the princess and the pea, at just the right height to lick Gussie's neck as she drove. Prince Jake was his usual dignified self in the car, and slept most of the way south, pausing only to bounce like a mad fool on the snow at Tebay.

Jake in festive blanket

Jake graciously received presents from his Stockport subjects, including a fancy Wittard dog bowl, and a cuddly reindeer with many squeaks. He allowed Mary to share her bed with him, and was delighted to see Stephen too, though the pack remained a distant memory, their scent wafting on the grasses at Myrelees. At Lyme Park, in hot pursuit of a labrador, Jake fell into the lake and had to pulled out by his elbows. He was none the worse for this, in fact, rather cleaner than when he fell in.

In Nottingham, Jake successfully masqueraded as the best behaved dog Gussie's mother had ever seen. We were pleased, if a little surprised. He coped dogfully with wheelchairs, toddlers, aeon-long meals, no telly, and organic beef scraps. He explored the canals near Kinoulton with Pixie the springer spaniel, found some glorious dung to roll in, then resumed his guise of Lovely Dog in a Kinoulton living room.

Best of all - getting home after a day's driving (pit stops at Borobridge, Scotch Corner & Jedburgh) to find that his home and his den were still intact. Harrison Park appears to be here still too, along with all his doggy friends.

Next stop - Gairloch!

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Pic of Jake with insane toothy grin

Jake is a black & tan lurcher, adopted from Edinburgh Dog & Cat Home in August 2004. He now lives the life of Riley in a leafy suburb of Edinburgh. His interests include agility, running like the wind, enticing other dogs to chase him, fellow sighthounds Molly & Steve, squirrels, swans, plush swans, swans on telly, Portobello beach, the Edinburgh hills, sofas, & snoozing. 

Jake wears Earth Dog hemp collars from Mango Mutt. His collar tag (compliant with KC agility regs) is from the excellent Indigo Collar Tags.



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you don't really need to do any work, do you?

Why don't you switch off the computer and play with me instead?



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