How (Not To) Holiday With Dogs 1

So here we are on our second night of five away from home on our West Lothian tour of dog-friendly accommodation.

Yesterday we packed the Leaf and drove to Uphall to check in to the Oatridge Hotel, which is quite a nice, clean and upwardly mobile first stop (construction going on in the beer garden (I even saw someone mowing the astroturf!)).

We checked in at 4:30pm or thereabouts and I settled up the remainder of the bill. Then my wife and son went to the local chippy for a special fish for myself, a fish supper for my son, a baked spud for my wife and an additional platter (for everyone, which everyone was too full to eat).

Those of you who have been to Uphall may remember the busy high street and intersection and not immediately be able to envision any green areas for dogs to roam, relax and do their business, but we managed to find a nice walk not too far from the hotel left across the bridge over the Broxburn (which is actually a burn (Scots. valley of the badgers)), up a path and right to a big green square.

Although she’d been fine in the car, for some reason our canine family member was extremely unhappy having to wait outside the chip-shop while my wife and son were inside, and slipped backwards out of her harness completely so I had to grab her between my knees to reapply it. Probably a wolf pack thing. Realised we should maybe have done some separation anxiety training with her little by little to help her get used to us randomly disappearing into shops. Who knows where she would have shot off to had she escaped, as un-street cred as she is. Probably the interior of the chippie.

Tried to watch a terrible movie about dragons on the misnamed Great! Movies on the TV with my son but could barely keep my eyes open. The early 2000s CGI was pretty good, however, and didn’t seem to match the poorness of the hairstyles which suggested 80s straight-to-VHS.

Couldn’t sleep due to worrying about the dog needing a pee, her barking every hour at sounds both real and imagined, me feeling too hot while simultaneously a chilly draft tickled across the small of my back due to not getting enough of the duvet as the dog was sleeping between us on the bed, the window rattling in its frame, birds screeching, the central heating humming and the green unblinking eye of the fire escape sign light above the door.

Hopefully tonight will be better.

Dog Days

And so a new month finds us. Behold July 2023! What surprises and challenges do you bring? What delicious secrets lie buried just below your surface, waiting patiently to be discovered? A gold coin perhaps? A magical artefact? The potatoes I planted?

Yesterday morning I awoke with a start following a dream our dog had been lost somewhere in the highlands of Scotland. There was no way she could find her way home. She was out there, alone, fending for herself. It was horrible. 

It wasn't like the dream of losing a child, like in a big city, which I've also had, and which was also terrible. But my child is at an age now where he has a pretty decent understanding of the lie of the land and how to communicate and get around. Our dog has only been in this world seven months. She's cute and cuddly, yes, but her communication skills are a little lacking. Opposable thumbs are few and far between. Using a credit card, even contactless, may be outwith the bounds of her skillset.

For these reasons having a nightmare about a lost puppy seemed to hit, not harder, but in a slightly different, more sensitive area, where one is not accustomed to be hit.

Upon returning to reality I felt such a wave of relief wash over me, it was indescribable. But let me try. Big. 

Even though it was still an hour before she habitually woke me up, I went straight downstairs to reassure myself that she was safe and sound on the sofa, and there she was, oblivious to the torment I had just suffered at the hands of my subconscious. "What are you doing here?" she seemed to think. "You still have an hour." Needless to say, cuddles and tummy rubs ensued.

Need someone to write mildly amusing doggy blog posts? Hold my beer.

How to Live a Low Carbon Lifestyle

In other news, I was pleasantly surprised seeing the numbers of our June energy usage, which I check the 1st (week) of every month. It being the middle of summer, they are naturally low, but due to our solar panels and the selling of the car, our carbon footprint is way, way down. Like silly small.

Red means winter, green summer. Far right column is year's CO2 output to date.

If my calculations are correct, in June 2023 we output less than the weight of our dog in carbon emissions. 20kg.

This is not including any land-based public transport usage by family members, as I consider the additional weight of a human on a vehicle which is traveling overground somewhere anyway negligible.

I'm talking about the energy for which we are directly responsible.

The gas we use for central heating and showers.

The electricity we use for lights, the kettle, the cooker, the fridge.

The petrol and carbon debt of the car, spread out mile by mile throughout its lifespan.

Note yellow line representing half of solar generation (estimated unused and going back into the grid) which is negative.

20kg of CO2 in a summer month is the lowest since I started taking records of our energy usage going to back to 1st Dec 2018. The closest is 44kg in July 2020 in the midst of the Corona lockdowns. In the winter of early 2019, when I regularly commuted by car to Edinburgh, it was as as high as 533kg. Half a tonne.

I'm not telling people how to live their lives and I know some folk depend on their private vehicles but damn, if you want to rid yourself of carbon guilt and feel better about the planet, sell your car. Tremendous mental health relief. Get a decent road bike with rack and panniers for shopping. Re-acquaint yourself with the sociability of public transport and sharing lifts. Normalise a slightly less convenient, smaller, slower world. Use the capital to install solar panels on your house.

You know it makes sense...