Richard Lane

Happy birthday to darling Simpson on reaching his dozen years, always a landmark moment for a labrador/retriever. The back legs may not be very strong, but the head and the heart (and the appetite) as large as ever. Huge hugs to the big fluffy teddy bear that is simpy. xxx

Gosh I’m 11 years old, that’s 77 doggy years. To celebrate, there’s a street party going on outside on Abbey st with red, white, and blue bunting and all sorts of things. Really feel very touched by the effort everyone has gone to. Topper (twitter.com/soppytoppy) peed on my head while out for early walkies, an unusual birthday present for sure. He is off on holiday today for a week (to Liss in Sussex) as Dad will be off to Baltimore tomorrow. Gosh I can hear trumpets and an organ on the telly, really everyone has gone to town for my big day. Thanks world *wags*.

Just back from lunchtime concert in local Farnham church, friendly audience seemed to enjoy the Bach, Beethoven, Massenet, Kreisler, and Elgar. Simpson took himself off for a wander around the church while allan and I played. Topper craned his nec around pew to see what his old Dad was up to. Warm feeling, and most notes correct and in the right order…

Well am 10 years old today, which may not sound much, but that’s 70 years in a dog’s life…feeling very chippa after my birthday presents (rubber balls for Farnham Park), and of course various retirement functions coming up. feet up for the rest of the day with a long London day ahead tomorrow…thanks everyone for the good wishes.

be trying my paws at Twitter, if interested take a look at www.twitter.com/simpywimpy

Magdalene from Guide Dogs came out today. She is German and very efficient. We toddled up to London mid-morning so she could assess me in busy London conditions. Went like a breeze. Guided Dad across Waterloo concourse and onto the escalator without any problems. Then through crowded Camden market and to the office door, water off a dog’s back really. Magdalene was very pleased and although Dad is on the waiting list, I’ll be fine to work for at least another six months if things stay the same with me and no new pooch is offered to Dad. Back in Abbey St Farnham now and chilling out in my bed. Feel quite pleased.

22 years ago, in a former life, I recall sitting in the Corn exchange concert venue in my home town of Bedford; our youth orchestra played Elgar’s ‘enigma Variations’ and from memory it was a good performance. Last night I once again took my seat in the first violins to play Enigma in the Corn exchange, under the same baton of conductor Michael Rose, and with some of the same players: my desk-partner and life-long chum David Barlen, and the dynamic Morven Bryce who led the orchestra last night. It was a sentimental and somewhat surreal experience. For the past 6 weeks I have painstakingly memorised the 30-minute orchestral masterpiece (including the famous ‘Nimrod’ variation). Mercifully the brain-box did not let me down, and most of the notes came out of the violin at the right time. Never before have I listened so intently to guide my playing, with no conductor’s baton to follow. It was both tense and intense, nerve-wracking yet euphoric, all of life’s emotions contained in one concentrated half-hour of music making. And over so quickly, barely time for a drink afterwards and a reminisce with old chums; all of a sudden it was midnight and Cinderella had to leave the ball. Today a strange sort of hangover, some mental and a bit (quite a lot actually) of emotional exhaustion. So the violin goes away until the next time…the next time…when will that be I wonder…?

Autumn is definitely upon us, the air feels cool and the leaves are beginning to fall in Gostrey Meadow just over the road from the house. I’m not so keen on rushing up to London these days, in fact my pace has dropped a bit and I like to lie down more when out for walkies. But Dad says that’s ok, after all I am 9 years old next birthday and I’ll be retiring some time next year. Mind you, Goldie is going great guns at 12 and a half, though of course she hasn’t done any guiding work for years. So while it’s autumn outside, it’s autumn time for the guiding work as well. But Dad says autumn is his favourite time of year, so that’s ok.  

Actually things are much better now, and I feel a bit bad about yesterday’s blog. chester isn’t in my face quite as much, and we had a good run in simon’s garden which cleared the air a bit. Today is lovely and sunny and I am hoping we’ll go up to the Pentlands for a really good walk, before I fly back home later.

So much for my summer break with raven here at Cocburn Hill outside edinburgh. Arrived from the long train journey to be ‘greeted’ by a ghastly wire-haired terrier called Chester. He barked and licked and bared his teeth and has been a nightmare all weekend.He even jumped on my back last night and we had one hell of a stand-off. So I’m spending a lot of my time skulking in dad’s bedroom, though I’m geting lots of visitors and even some lamb bits last night. Though this morning was better as the terrorising terrier stayed in the lounge while I had breakfast with raven and toddled outside for a lovely run in the garden, so things are looking up. I still love Scotland, I just can’t stand chester and probably all border terriers.