He's Gynormous!!

You could have knocked me down with a sprig of heather when I met Uncle Big Wee Jock! I never thought that a haggis could be bigger than me! He was completely round and so furry that it was very difficult to tell which end was which. In fact, I was talking to him for at least 10 minutes before I realised that he was lying on his back. he said he was"taking a rest after a wee dram" whatever that might mean. Actually I'm pretty sure that he just wanted his tummy tickling - haggises are just like puppies in that respect.

After this, I'm not sure I can take too much more highland excitement. Also it's getting pretty drafty in a kilt now we're getting towards autumn. Next time you see me, I think I'll have trusty trousers and boots back on!

A haggis a last!

...but not quite what I expected! After much unfruitful searching, we finally took some advice from a local expert. Instead of endlessly tramping about in the hills (or braes as they call them around here) we decided to set a trap. We balanced a cardboard box on a stick and under it we placed two items that we were assured were irresistible to any haggis; a Tunnock's teacake (unwrapped of course) and a small glass of finest Malt Scotch. Then we tied a long piece of cotton to the stick and retired to a place of concealment. After about an hour of uncomfortable waiting (heather is very scratchy in the wrong places, I can assure you) we heard some some snuffling and squeaking from the box. Although we couldn't see anything, we guessed it must be a haggis and pulled the string. The box plopped down, and we ran over to it so see what we had captured.

As we picked the box up, we heard a small voice singing an old highland song*, and we were certain then that we had got our first haggis.

Imagine our surprise then, when we lifted up the box and were faced not with a small white furry creature, but a bright purple one.

"You're not a haggis - you're purple!" I exclaimed in amazement.

"Am ah no? Then what de ye ken ah am then, ye wee sassenach pup?", came the reply. "Do ye think we're all tartan jobs frae the souvenir shop?"

Well that clinched it. We were clearly mistaken and he definitely was the genuine article. We apologised and, when he had calmed down he explained that his name was Tiny Wee Jock McHaggis of Glenmore. He also told us how, quite against popular belief, haggises come in all colours and sizes, and they're not all white at all - and none of them are tartan.

We soon became good friends, and I was able to ask him a question that had been bothering me ever since he told us his name. "If you're Tiny Wee Jock, does that mean there are much bigger haggises?".

"Oh aye", he replied. "If you like, I'll take ye to meet mah great Uncle Big Wee Jock". Well that sounded great, and what could there be to worry about - I mean, how big could a haggis be?

* The song turned out to be called "Plankton's Lament, or Whale Meet Again". Or something like that.

Give me a clue!

After my unfortunate case of mistaken identity involving Rabbie the Scottish sheep, I realised that I needed to do some more research. I mean, I knew that haggises are round and furry, but so are lot of creatures. So how do you distinguish a haggis from all the other highland creatures? I asked James for some advice and he said that they have a very distinctive squeak, made when alarmed, angry, sleepy, relaxed or alert.

Armed with this useful information, I set off for an extended Haggis hunt. I couldn't believe my luck when after only a few minutes I gained my first contact! I rushed around the corner, eager to meet my first ever haggis in person - and who should I meet but a very small hamster, taking some exercise in his wheel.

I have to admit to being a bit disappointed at first, but once I got chatting to young Hamish (that was the hamster's name) I realised that making a new friend is just as exciting as discovering a new species. And anyway, Hamish says that he's going to help me and Jack on our search!

Oops - my mistake!

Well, it might have big, round, white and furry, but it definitely wasn't a haggis! As soon as I tugged on a handful of fur, I realised my mistake. There was a very loud, cross sounding baaing noise, and I came face to face with the largest sheep I've ever seen. For a moment I thought James and I were in real trouble, as the ram glowered down at us with his fearsome horns and wild eyes. But then Jack, thinking quickly, said "Good morning to ye, good sir, will ye no take a wee drop of tea with us?". The ram was taken aback by the politeness of the young pig, and, although I didn't realise this, Scottish sheep are apparently very fond of tea - special sheep tea if possible. Anyway, he came back to Jack's house with us, and on the way, we became quite friendly. He explained that is his name is Rabbie, of the clan MacBleat, and he is a highland ram by birth. We told Rabbie all about our quest to find the legendary haggis, and he agreed to be our guide. So everything turned out really well in the end.

In Search of the Wild Haggis!

The most exciting adventure of my Scottish holiday started on the day that I met James. James the Hog, comes from Southern Uplands of Scotland where he helps his daddy on their sheep farm. I became firm friends with James, who was very good a telling tales about Scotland and the legends of the Scottish folk. The story that really interested me was about the wild haggis. This is a creature who lives in the high glens and, though very shy, can be lured out, if you know how. James told me that, if we were to see a haggis in his natural environment, then it was very important that I should blend in with the scenery. The best way to do this, he told me, was to wear traditional Scottish clothing. We arranged to meet the following day at James's father's farm, and I took myself straight off to a Kiltmaker's shop. The next morning, feeling very proud of finery, I met up with James, only to be told that what he had meant was a nice tweed jacket or something, and some stout shoes. I felt a bit silly, but James said that he was sure it would be fine, and so we started our search immediately.

The first thing I had to do was find out what a haggis actually looks like. James said they are thought to be round and covered in white fur, so when I saw a what looked like a big shaggy rug on legs I leaped for it and grabbed hold of it.

Do you think I had captured the legendary haggis? You'll have to wait until next time to find out!

Yes, I'm Back!

Hello again everybody! I'm sorry I haven't written anything for such a long time. I have been away on holiday in Scotland with some of my friends. We had a lovely time exploring old castles, walking in the highlands and making lots of new friends. I'll tell you about some of my adventures in the next couple of weeks - you wouldn't believe what strange animals we met. There was one who didn't seem to have any paws at all, but was very furry and had a loud squeak. Apparently he's a sort of animal you don't meet anywhere else in the world, and, to be honest I'm not surprised.

Anyway, here's a nice picture of Rebecca, Mole and I having a little rest after looking around a lovely castle. Doesn't it look peaceful and tranquil? Well, it was, for about 90 seconds after this picture was taken. That was when Mole spotted a nearby bowling green and decided to have a burrow. He thought he had made an attractive pattern of molehills to add to the challenge of the game of bowls - a bit like a crazy golf course, but no windmill. Unfortunately, the bowling club didn't agree, and we all had to leave quite rapidly!

Smugglers Ahoy!

We had our brainwave just at the crucial moment. The net was closing in on our little friend when Rebecca spotted a friend's mummy, Mrs Panda, who was having trouble her baby. The baby didn't want to be in its pram, and carrying the baby and pushing her pram at the same time was a real trial for the mummy. So Rebecca generously offered to push around the empty pram. "We'll meet you outside the museum" said Rebecca, and Mrs Panda gratefully agreed, little suspecting that we had an ulterior motive!
We tucked our new chum in the pram and pulled the frilly canopy up around to hide him as much as possible. Well, we had a few close shaves, as it turns out that dinosaurs are not over blessed with common sense, but they do have a lot of curiosity. He would keep sitting up to have a look around at all the wrong moments. But finally we managed to smuggle him out of the museum to freedom!

Now all we have to do is find somewhere for him to live. I hope he's not a meat-eating dinosaur!