Hello, friends, it is I, BOB – the happy-go-lucky labrador who lives with Kate, Tom and my unruly brother, Bran. Today I am here to tell you about my interesting experience of absence and presence, which occurred during a recent trip I took to the magical isle of Arran.

I say I took this trip, but really, it was Tom who did the taking. Tom likes many things that I also enjoy very much: BANANAS and POTATOES, for example. Happily, another of those things is a Big Hill of which the isle of Arran has many. Arran is very close to Kintyre – in fact, you can see its distinctive, pointy outline from where we live – but to get there you have to take a boat. Here comes the boat!

The boat is small and noisy, and we met many happy dogs and their humans on board. Despite this, for some strange reason, the welcome notice on the slipway did not include passengers of the four legged variety. Dogs were there on the boat, but not on the sign: this was the first of several curious absences I began to notice on this trip.

The second absence became apparent shortly after our arrival on the island, when Tom told me that we were heading to a mountain called Goatfell. Now, I have met goats before and I like them very much. There are many goats in Kintyre – at Carradale, at Davaar, in the hills above Machrihanish. These goat friends are free spirits in the landscape, wandering about just doing their own thing: they can pop up out of nowhere, and it is always exciting when you meet one (or as is more often than not the case, several – goats tending to materialise in groups). Tom and Kate find meeting a Kintyre goat just as exciting as I do, but unlike me, this excitement seems to have very little to do with the way they smell. This is just one of many inexplicable human weirdnesses, because nothing smells quite like a goat, and, to my mind, few things smell as good. Mmmm . . . . goat . . . I digress. Anyway, it was a lovely day for a run up a hill, and for understandable reasons, the prospect of a goat encounter made this even more appealing. I was happy when we parked the car and brother Bran was excited too.
With us dogs leading the way in leaps and bounds, and our human following somewhat less agilely behind, we all ran up Goatfell. We paid careful attention to our surroundings, and I often paused to sniff the air, but I found no sign of a goat, by either sight or smell.
We eventually arrived at the top of Goatfell. There we encountered several humans – enthusing, as is customary about The View – but there were . . . no goats!

Look over there, Bran – can you see a goat? No? Well, how about down there?

We checked everywhere we could (although Tom stopped us exploring some interesting precipitous crevices), and, though we could hardly believe it, it was true. Goats were there in the name, but not on the hill! Another curious absence!
As we came down from Goatfell, the sun went down and the moon came up. The air began to cool.

Tom said we needed to make camp, so we put up a tent by the seashore. I say we, but as putting up tents involves lots of sticks which, rather than being chewed or played with, must be carefully joined together, Tom took care of this part while Bran and I amused ourselves by the water.

It was about then that I noticed another strange absence. Where was Kate? I remembered that I’d not seen her for a while. Could she be inside the tent? I thought I’d better check.

Just at the sign contained no dogs and the hill contained no goats, the tent contained no Kate. Another absence! The third! I began to be concerned.
Then Tom and Bran came in to hunker in the bunker. As we lay there, I told Tom about the day’s strange absences, and in particular that of Kate. He said that there was nothing for me to worry about, because in fact, Kate was actually there with us in spirit. In spirit! Interesting! It was true that I could picture Kate in the tent – in fact I could even smell her. This was very reassuring, so perhaps she was actually there although I couldn’t really see her? Did the same thing, I wondered, apply to the absent goats of the hill? Were they there “in spirit” too? And what about that sign and its missing dogs? If you were able to imagine or remember a thing did it make it real? This presence and absence stuff was all very confusing. My dog brain was in a whirl! Tom told me to stop worrying and just go to sleep. I dreamt of goats.

I woke up to a beautiful sunny morning. There was no Kate, and no goats, but I definitely think that they were there with us in spirit.




I learned a lot on my trip to Arran!

See you soon, love BOB.
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Such a WONDERFUL story! So FULL of JOY!!! Thank you!!!
Dear Bob and Bran,
We also wrestle with absence and presence — of chipmunks! Their ability to taunt us and then vanish into a log confounds us to no end. (It also usually means a bath for Stella, who insists on getting herself thoroughly coated in dust nearly every time.) Regardless, it’s great fun to send them scattering.
Best barking regards!
Chico
New Mexico, USA
As usual Bob writes a good blog. Thanks Bob and thanks to your human dad.His pictures are lovely.
Wonderful doggy stories, though I hope all is well soon.
OH BOB!!
It is so disturbing when one of the Pack is missing.
I hope you have been reunited with Kate, and are planning another FULL PACK adventure.
Happy Summer,
Johanna in Gearhart, Oregon USA
The pic attached is of our old dogs who are now over the Rainbow Bridge, taken in the car waiting for the ferry from Port Angeles, Washington to Victoria, BC. We all had a great time!! And Vancouver Island is a lovely place for lots of adventures with canines. :)
Hurrah for joyful trips with happy dogs
I absolutely LOVE it when the dogs do the story telling! Thank you for their insight and humour! (And thank you always for the lovely photos Tom!)
Great pictures :) Dogs in motion!
Bob’s posts are my favorite. I love Bob and Bran.
That is all.
I’m biased, I know, but the way Arran soars up from the sea makes it a magical island. Sorry you missed this trip, but hopefully you feel better now and back to enjoying this fabulous weather and getting on with your knitting outdoors.
Three cheers for Tom’s fantastic photography and Bob’s narrative.
I’m off to knit in the sun.
Rhona
I love the Labs, but as much as I love the Labs, I love the landscape more. Breathtaking!
I always enjoy a post by Bob.
I spent a few wonderful months visiting Arran when I was 30 (I’m 79 now, so it was a long time ago!); lovely to see the view from Goat Fell. I agree, Bob, a lovely view that has not changed in 60 years. I loved looking over at the mull of Kintyre.
Oh Bob you write a good blog post!
I was right there with you – in spirit – because you have reminded me so well of a Geology Hike up Goat Fell in March 1973. Along with lots of other undergradutes and teachers from Cambridge University, I struggled up the slippery slopes – in a blizzard! no view for us! – and slid all the way down using my waterproof trousers as a toboggan. (My Geological Map got eroded in the process).
I like a good goat as well. Although a naughty one once tried to eat my trousers – when I was in them. Moral: don’t ever try to wear trousers, Bob!
Love to you and Bran.
Bob is a philosopher……
Sorry about the misnomer re the goats Bob, I too would have been disappointed! Looks like a fabulous trip though and that view!!
You know Bob, you talk a lot more sense than far too many humans!