Nutcote News 42

An owner told me not to worry. "They'll sort themselves out" and so they did.

One little dog hid behind its owner's legs. "Constance has never seen so many of her own kind before" said the owner, but 'Constance' soon got over her shyness.

Two women sat at a table on the terrace eating their lunch. One cheeky scottie kept jumping up, putting his paws on their laps and demanding some of their lunch. His antics were rewarded amidst much laughter.

All but one of the scotties was black, making it difficult to tell them apart at first. The exception to the rule was a beautiful wheaten scottie (cream with a hint of beige) who was born in London. Berkley was a real scottie, not a cross breed. He was accompanied by Dougal and Florence and their owner Peter Willsher.

Jim Henderson brought a 'cleckin' of scotties - six to be precise: Marigold, Hilda, Brindie, Beitiris, MacKeanish and Rankeillor. By the end of the day he was tired of counting to keep track of them. Jim took the opportunity to become a 'Friend of Nutcote' during his visit. (Nutcote needs friends with scotties).

The Crawford family who came last year were back with Fergus and Thistle; as were the Pritchards with Scout.

Scotties Constance and Mungo Balfour came from Bowral and will bring their scottie friend Agnes from Elizabeth Bay next time.

Peter Kingston's Denton, who is almost a resident scottie made up the total of 15.

The customary free Birthday cake added to the festivities with perfectly carved scottie dog candles. The candles had been sent all the way from Holland by Ann Marie de Jong, who worked so hard as a Nutcote volunteer during her 18 months stay in Australia.

The Nutcote team of Ruth Banfield (Manager/Curator), Liz Syme (Tearoom Manager) and volunteers Pat Hopper, Jil Seton, Margot Mahon, Marian Shand, Norma Perry, Marian Bollard, Janine Dawson and daughter Rosie handled a record number of visitors.

There's something about scotties that sets them apart from other dogs; no wonder May Gibbs was dotty about them. There aren't many events where children, adults and dogs can mix so freely. It was like a private party where informality and geniality abounded. The ghosts of scotties past could be felt and no doubt May Gibbs would approve.

Then we all went home to our beckoning beds
Whilst visions of scottie dogs danced in our heads.

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