The real reason Scotland has gone barking mad for dogs

They might not be on TV, but here on The Herald Magazine we reckon our own motley crew of canine companions are rather special too. Over the coming pages, we tell you why. Oh, and a cat has sneaked in too.

Life lessons from a collie

By Susan Swarbrick

There have been many times when I’ve wished our dog Moose could talk and tell us about what his life was like before he came to be ours. Where did he go for walks? What food did he eat? Who were his old family?

We adopted Moose – a Border Collie – from the Dogs Trust in 2019. He was four then and came with only the briefest of biographies. His previous owners had given him up due to a change of circumstances. That’s about all we could glean.

But from the first time my husband and I laid eyes on him, we knew he was our boy. I couldn’t wait to bring him home.

What can I tell you about Moose? He’s sweet, funny, mischievous and incredibly clever (as you might expect from a collie). Words he initially looked baffled about are now part of an ever-growing and extensive vocabulary he understands.

To that end, Moose regularly astounds me with how much he comprehends. There is no use spelling out words such as B-I-S-C-U-I-T and S-Q-U-I-R-R-E-L and G-A-R-D-E-N, nor any point in making up sneaky acronyms, as it doesn’t take him long to crack the flimsy code.

Susan Swarbrick's collie Moose

Not long after we adopted him, I bought a canine DNA test. Moose has a larger frame than an average collie, with a habit of curling his tail like a husky when happy and, at times, his handsome chops can look positively wolfish. Could there be something else in his genes I wondered?

When the DNA results arrived, I was convinced there would be some exotic throwback. The result: 100 per cent Border Collie. All the way back to his great, great grandparents.

Moose certainly possesses many of the classic traits of a Border Collie, not least a love of herding. Never is that boy happier than when he has his flock – me, my husband, my mother – rounded up in one place. Especially if that happens to be in the C-A-R or heading somewhere nice for a W-A-L-K.

READ MORE: The 50 best books to give this Christmas: Susan Swarbrick on thrillers, crime and coffee table tomes

To say Moose has enriched our lives and brought us joy doesn’t even begin to cover it. Sometimes I get caught up in the mantra of work hard now, have fun later. I will be hell-bent on battering through a task and lose track of time.

When this happens, Moose often appears by my side and drops a tennis ball into my lap as if to say, come play, forget your worries for a while.

He has a tenacity that is awe-inspiring: whether it is the daily, fruitless pursuit of squirrels or cajoling me to open the biscuit tin that contains the gravy bones, Moose’s motto is that it’s always worth a try. There is a life lesson in that for all of us.

The ages of man (and dog)

By Garry Scott

Eating and sleeping and eating and sleeping. That’s pretty much it apart from charging round the park twice a day.

They say it’s a dog’s life but I’ve never understood that. The Webster’s dictionary definition is a “difficult, boring, and unhappy life.” What’s difficult about eating and sleeping?

We got Holly, a very posh Labradoodle – half Labrador/half poodle – in the local supermarket. Well, on the notice board.

She was looking for a new home and we were looking for a new dog. The fact she was free didn’t cross my mind at all. Honest.

Garry Scott with his dog Holly, a Labradoodle. Picture: Colin Mearns

All was well, everyone loved her and she settled in nicely. But, a few months back, she seemed to age overnight. She couldn’t jump into the car, or climb steep hills, or leap onto the couch (where, to be frank, she should never have been in the first place.) She became scared of other dogs, even if they were half her size.

In short, her get up and go, got up and went. We all, if we are lucky, get older, but we lose our va-va-voom and our confidence slips away with the passing years. The world can become a scary place, especially if you don’t understand what’s happening to you.

I’d look into her big, brown, uncomprehending eyes. She was 10 years old and we thought she was on her way out. We knew what was happening, even if she didn’t. It was very sad.

READ MORE: Best walks in Scotland: Blawhorn Moss, West Lothian

READ MORE: Best walks in Scotland: The Dunnet Forest Circular, Caithness

It was another intimation of mortality for me too. I was getting older, the dog was getting older, and nothing good could come of that, surely?

Then, slowly, she started to get her groove back. She started to chase squirrels and play with other dogs again. She could leap into the back of the car. Maybe there was a lesson for us all. Just hang in there and maybe, just maybe, things might turn out alright.

PS: She’s back on that bloody couch as I write this ...

Mad about the girl

By Alison Rowat

My girl is six-years-old now but I learn new things about her all the time. How she likes to fight with the vacuum cleaner, for instance, or why she won’t give anyone “a paw”, not even her human “maw” (hello).

Hobo is the sweetest, most accommodating soul on four paws. But requesting one of those paws be raised in your honour is like asking for Ronaldo’s participation in a game of keepie-uppie, or having Adele sing you happy birthday.

Scotland’s Best Dog? Hobo (short for Hoboken, New Jersey) is already a world beater, a dog with a lineage stretching back through generations of champions.

So why is she living with scruff like me, you are wondering? It’s not a long, complicated story. Hobo is a rehomed dog. Not a rescue, a rehome. She came from a loving household that liked to spend weekends at dog shows. Hobo did not.

When the judges came round to give her the whole Crufts MOT she would flip on her back and present her tummy for tickling. Cute, but not what the judges were after.

Alison Rowat with her dog Hobo

Learning she was available, we trekked to Dumfries and Galloway three years ago, just before Christmas, to be put through a strict vetting process.

I was fine on the whole general knowledge of canines thing, but I think what clinched it was rolling on the floor with Hobo within five minutes of meeting. I had passed the test. I had passed Hobo’s test.

The only thing asked of me was to love and care for her, and send a small thank you to the wonderful Labrador Retriever Rescue Scotland. Reader, I won a watch.

Now she lives in a home in which the most exciting weekend event is watching The Andrew Marr Show, and where grooming is way down a list of preferred activities, after scratching and eating biscuits.

READ MORE: Issue of the day: And just like that, the Sex and the City gals are back

Since her majesty (or the “Queen of Sheba” if I am in a snippy mood), graciously agreed to live here there is never a day when I do not thank the fates for her existence. Loving, well-behaved (unless you are a vacuum cleaner), immaculately trained, she is great with people, especially small ones. Sorrows do not stick around if Hobo is in the room.

Request a paw, though, and it is no dice. She will look the person kindly in the eyes as if to say, “Come on now, friends do not ask each other to perform tricks, and what are we if not friends forever?” Somehow the human gets the message and does not ask again.

My girl. My Hobo. Not, officially, Scotland’s Best Dog (and congrats to whoever wins), but my queen forever.

Hey! Don’t forget the cats

By Teddy Jamieson

I’ve been totting up all the pets who have been part of my life until now. It works out at four dogs, six cats, maybe four or five hamsters (I’m a bit vague on the hamsters to be honest), who knows how many goldfish and a budgie called Sparky.

There were more dogs than cats when I was a kid but since I’ve had my own place cats have taken over.

When my late wife Jeanie and I moved in together we had two in tow, a black cat called Syd and a tortoiseshell called Snake who was shy and quiet but could beat up Syd every time they squared up.

Jeanie loved pets. Loved all animals. There were times when I thought we could do without a pet. We already had two kids. But she never agreed. A pet was part of family life.

So, if I had to choose, then I’d always choose a cat. Maybe it was because when I first visited her family home she had a dog Cash that really didn’t like me. It took about six months before it allowed me to go through to the kitchen.

Jeanie’s family had a penchant for pets that veered towards wildness. Once, when I was staying with them, her sister brought back a feral cat that immediately retreated under a bed and would spit and scream at anyone who came close.

Teddy Jamieson's cat Ollie. Picture: Rachel Jamieson

That bed was my bed. In the early hours of the morning when the house was dark and still, the cat would climb onto the bed where I was sleeping, sniff my hair and maybe allow me to pet him. Come the morning he was back to spitting and yowling again.

Thankfully our current cat Ollie is a little more serene than that. He has his moments though.

He gets this look in his eye and you realise it’s time to stand up because he’s about to launch himself at the nearest face. I keep meaning to buy a water pistol to spray him when he gets in that mood.

But most of the time he is a lazy, sleepy cat. Life is a round of food and snoozing in the highest place he can reach. He’s not a great one for getting petted. Unless he’s looking for something to eat.

READ MORE: The 50 best books to give this Christmas: Teddy Jamieson on food, fiction, football and fashion 

He is three-and-a-half now. Jeanie bought him in 2018 from a couple who bred ragdolls. She knew she was sick and wouldn’t see him grow up.

“He’s my last gift to you,” she would say. “Great,” I’d tell her. “I’m the one who is going to have to clean his litter tray when you’re not here anymore.”

I’m glad I do though. On mornings when I wake up early, he will sometimes jump onto the bed and sit on my chest and purr. When he does so, I remember the gift he is and as I bury my nose in his fur I think of Jeanie.

Scotland’s Best Dog continues on the BBC Scotland channel, Thursdays, 8pm. The final will air on Thursday, December 23 at 8pm. The series will also be shown daily on BBC One Scotland from Sunday, December 19 or catch-up now on BBC iPlayer