In the last month, Hebe-the-dog has met all the family, including all my sister's dogs - except for the black lurcher. (He features in a few of my pics because he is the most biddable & lovely rescue dog, who seems SO thankful to have been saved, that for all his bigness, he has the gentlest nature!) However, he hates travelling by car and can soak a bath towel with all his fearful slavers on just a half-hour journey. And since all our meets have been a mid-point between Caithness and Ross-shire, Hebe has not met him.

The other dogs have tholed her uncontained excitement and lickiness. They regard her from a few feet above, like teenagers observe young children, mouthing with disdain - something like, 'How immature!'

Neither were the grandkids keen on a puppy with a hyperactive tongue and, therefore, ignorant of all that compulsory covid, 20-second, germ-control, hand-washing malarkey!

But she wasn't too nippy with them - until in the last few days when I had to 'invisibly' mend a tear in a skort (a skirt/shorts combo). And that was followed by a heartfelt warning from Grandkid1, 'If you do that to my Harry Potter dress, we won't be friends anymore!'

And there was the nip to Grandkid1's ankle, when she donned a swimsuit and headed towards the sea at Balintore, one hot day.

Hebe isn't a fan of water.

But she was well impressed by Grandkid2's leaping down from high rocks and across rockpools. Of course, he had 'powered-up' first. He had donned some sort of invisible protective gear that only Grandkid2 knew about precisely!

When he came a cropper and slid into one of those rockpools, he let out a howl. It sounded like a mix of indignation and incomprehension. How could that happen? Hebe concurred, No idea!

After everyone left, the cottage was oh-so-quiet again, so I decided to repaint the livingroom. I was bored, but not quite ready for the studio again.

So, gone is the Red Stallion feature wall. That horse has truly bolted. I have settled on country colours: sharny brown, sludgy sage and wheaten gold.

While coats of paint were being applied, Hebe slept. With each sleep she seemed to grow. Now, at 5 months, she has long back legs, a strong frame and a powerful neck.

I assume she feels that - likewise - her superpowers have increased. One afternoon, she leapt from a chair onto the garden table, where there was a patch of sun, and slept there - mid-air - glued to the small rectangular table like a postage stamp!

Caution is not a word she's familiar with.

She loves to scoot around the tidal mud flats by the river and jump between openings at terrific speed, with a grin the size of Asia!

All her frenetic activity allows me to observe all sizes of birds in startled flight.

On one of our escapades, I was just thinking about letting her off her stretchy lead, when I heard a 'Zonk!' I felt no tension on the lead and when I turned round, there was no sign of Hebe. I traced back along the lead to a deep hole and hauled out a submerged Hebe. My daredevil was startled, sodden and very stinky.

If she had been off the lead, I might never have found her.

She was grey from the tip of her nose to the end of her long tail. I took off my cotton shirt and blotted off the worst of it. She remained highly wiffy but seemed unspooked by her dice with death.

Lessons learned:

(1) Superheros need to be constantly alert & powered-up;

(2) Masters of Superheros need to be constantly alert & select routes wisely.

Thankfully, tomorrow is another day with a woof in it.