Hiya, it is I, Bruce. I was born on the 27th May, and now I am two years old. This weekend we celebrated my birthday at some very fun places called Inner Hebrides. To travel there, you have to get on noisyboat.
As everybody knows, I am called Bruce. Yet apparently I have another name that no-one ever calls me. This other name – Finlaggan – was hitherto unknown to me and it belongs to Kennel Club. Now, as far as I know, a kennel is a sort of dog prison, and belonging to a club of kennels does not interest me at all. Also, if this other name is my “proper” name, then why on earth am I known as Bruce? Clearly, being two years old means that the humans can now bother me with these confusing and pointless issues of nomenclature.
This other name – Finlaggan – also belongs to a place on the island of Islay. Kate told me that this place was once the seat of the Lords of the Isles.
Finlaggan is surrounded by water: good. Finlaggan is a Historic Site: bad. What is the point of all this lovely water if you cannot run about and jump in it?
Kate told me that Finlaggan was my spiritual home. Though it is a very nice spot, I think it may actually be more her kind of place than mine.
If you ask me, what every birthday needs is somewhere you could hold a really good party. I think I might have found just the place.
This tidy pile is currently on the market for a mere 1.6 million donuts. I think it would suit me down to the ground.
Imagine me, if you will, bounding unconstrained through the twenty four bedrooms, and wreaking happy havoc in the deer larder.
Truly, a hoose for Bruce. Unfortunately for me, my humans’ tastes are a little more modest.
But even so, I think I’m lucky to have them. We always have fun.
. . . though sometimes you do have to question their sanity.
Anyway, despite not even knowing what a birthday was before last week, I had an excellent one. I’m now looking forward to many more with the humans.
Pretty exhausting, really.
See you soon, love Bruce x
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