Today is the final day of my walk to commemorate my human mummies life and to raise some money for Macmillan Cancer Support. We walked up Goatfell to scatter some of her ashes on the summit as that is one of the places that she wanted to always be.
He found some more friends ( I think he must have hired them ‘cos I cannot believe he has so many. Maybe of course they are really mummy’s old pals). There were 19 people and 5 dogs. I was a bit upset as we walked up as I could sense that he was quite sad.
Everybody stayed close together and the walk was good fun until we got on to the ridge when what he called mist surrounded us. We could not see far but that was good for Meg and myself as we could easily run off out of sight. Then we would hide and laugh at them calling out for us! Hee, hee.
They took a long time to get to the top – I suppose because of my old man. When we arrived we all had something to eat – he even remembered to give us biccies! Then he said a few words and scattered the ashes. I bet mummy was watching us and having a good laugh at us all standing up here, cold and with no view. The bottle of whisky was brought out of Campbell’s (my human brother) rucksac.
Whoa. This is my walk my whisky!
We then walked back down the path to the cars. In the evening we had a big party and my Auntie Susie had produced a mountain of food that I heard them all saying was wonderful. Not that we were allowed any of it but I suppose we got extra food at dinner time and a few extra biccies.
I have really enjoyed the walk especially as we were doing it in memory of mummy who was a very special person to me and to him and to a great deal of others. Please remember that we also did it to raise money for Macmillan Cancer Support.
Between you and I my comments about him were only in fun and I really do like him. He really is my best pal but please, please do not tell I said so. We really have to keep him on his toes.
Hey Pops do you fancy walking back to Lewis? Oh my Giddy Aunt he has just passed out! I will have to go and lick him back to life. Bye.
P.S. he has recovered. For a moment I thought that he had popped his clogs. I really would miss him. Shhhh… don’t tell him I said that. I hope he lives till he is at least 82. I will be over sixteen by then and Labradors don’t usually need fed after that!
If you have enjoyed reading my blog you can always show your appreciation and donate through macmillantributefunds/margot pratt.
Thank you mummy for sharing your life with us.