The Legendary Lost City Of The Scottie Kings – Chapter 4

(Angus Fala Solving a Nina Ottosson Puzzle.  Pay Attention!  You will see this material again!)

This Chapter is dedicated to General Duncan Doolittle – a present day Scottie King who on Friday, April 14th, began his journey to the bridge and has now joined Angus Fala and the legendary Scottie Kings at the bridge. –  Captain Ainsley McKenna

Lord Vlad was ensconced in King Angus the 33rd’s Royal velvet robes while sitting on Angus’s royal chair in the Scottie King throne room.  He looked at his Husky subordinate officer and said “Major Wexford, tell me my evil dog, how is the torture of King Angus coming along? Has he told us where the treasure is yet?  it has been 90 days, I’m getting impatient.”

Major Wexford looked at Lord Vlad with his cold blue eyes and said “No sir, your Lordship.  These Scotties are tough critters.  Stoic AND stubborn.  He hasn’t broken.  The pain we have inflicted would break any other breed.  We even brought in his trusted staffer, a hooman named Catfer, and threatened to kill him if Angus didn’t talk, but all King Angus did was mumber “sympathy is for suckers” and he didn’t say another word.”

Lord Vlad sneered “Try torturiing something he truly loves.”

“Did that, sire.  We brought what Angus really loves – a green tennis ball.  He winced, but said nothing as we cut the ball up.”

Lord Vlad said “Tennis ball? What is this tennis you speak of?”

Major Wexford responded “Apparently it is a game in which you throw the ball and a dog goes and gets it.  Not as nearly as much fun as killing defenseless victims, in my opinion.”

Lord Vlad sneered “Truly.  The only thing wrong with Scotland is the Scotties.  How are our groups of mercenaries doing in the search for the castle?  Maybe they can find the treasure without King Angus’s cooperation?”

Major Wexford said “The Scottie Kings’ castle is truly extensive.  Thousands of rooms, labyrinth hallways.  We sent out a dozen expeditions of a hundred men each, and they have been gone 10 weeks surveying the castle, but we haven’t heard back from them yet.  I figure it will take a good 3 months to just count the rooms.”

Lord Vlad replied “Hmmmm. I don’t think we are going to get anything out of King Angus.  The treasure must be here somewhere.  We will just have to find it in our search.  Get rid of the King – and make sure all the subjects that we have not shipped back to Siberia for reeducation see his body, as a reminder to who is truly powerful.  Me!”

At that moment, nearly a mile away in the palace, in the King’s chambers, Angus was tied up, beaten, groggy yet stubborn and stoic.  His chambers, even though it had been defaced by the Husky hordes and Mercernary Soldiers, still was a very ornate suite of rooms.  On the floor behind the tied up King was a unique series of structures on the floor. A large white object looking like a dog bone, with two brown doors on either side on the floor, leading down.  The Huskies had tried to open the doors, thinking the treasure might be inside, but the doors were wedged into the white bone looking structure.

The captain of the Huskies torturerers, on the third shift, said to Angus, “Well, if you can hear me, King, you better talk, and talk now.  Cause you are a dead dog!” Then the captain giggled cruelly.

“I got something to say” Said Angus, hoarsely and lowly.

“Finally, you talk.  What is it, you royal fool?” sneered the Captain.

Angus said “Care to join us, Princess Aberdeen?” with his eyes looking to the upper corner of the room.

At that moment, all the torches in the room blew out, leaving the room in total darkness.

Legendary Lost City of the Scottie Kings – Chapter 3

IMG_0463

 

King Angus The 33rd was in the Palace Auditorium looking over the crowd.  Thousands of people and canines were watching him, and King Angus was bedecked in his formal royal robe and atop his head was a crown of jewels and gold.  All waiting for this, what was billed as a very important speech.

“Foreign dignitaries, canines, and their hooman staff, and members of my government.  Thanks for attending today.” Angus began, in his strong Scottie voice.  Looking over the Palace Auditorium, Angus couldn’t help but notice the 32 gold Scottie statues high up on the walls near the ceiling.  Each statue was a life size representation of the 32 prior Scottie Kings, from the first Angus to the 32nd Angus, Angus The 33rd’s father.  The Angus reign of Scotland spanned nearly a millennium, for folklore held that Angus the First lived to be nearly 100 years old, and Angus the fifth ruled an incredible 152 years.  Nowadays, Scotties lived to be around 30-35 years of age  typically.  Angus the 33rd was a robust, vibrant and healthy 18 years of age.

“I hope you are enjoying many of the innovations that my sister, the Princess Ainsley, has invented.  From the food and beverage vendors hawking their products from the coolers strapped around their chest – an Ainsley invention – to the stadium seating in which the rows go up, giving everyone an unobstructed view, another Princess Ainsley innovation.  And the rocking chairs you are sitting on, along with cup holders, all thanks to my sister.  I’m afraid if something happened to our civilization today all these fabulous creations would be lost for centuries, if not a thousand years,” Angus chuckled.

The crowd gasped in horror at Angus’s remarks.  A puppy in the back shouted “oh no, that would be terrible!”

Angus continued, “Settle down, settle down, just making an observation.  Nothing is going to happen to us Scottie Kings, not with the Scottie Special Forces, who are temporarily on assignment in Labrador in the land I have decided to call Canada.  But the guarding of the kingdom is in the capable hands of the Border Terrier Regiments, overseen by Baron Bancroft and his fellow Airedales”

“Oh no, not Border Terriers!  We’re doomed!” shouted that puppy in the back of the auditorium, to scattered chuckles among the audience.

“Anyway, where is that Baron Bancroft?  Anyone seen him?  I haven’t seen him or his Airedales since early yesterday evening.  Doesn’t matter – I’m more than capable of handling any crisis personally.” Angus said, flexing his ample black furred biceps as he held his prepared remarks.

“But I digress.  The point of my momentous address to you is this.  For generations, hooman staff has been trained at an informal basis, at the cost to their canine masters, at local hooman supply stores.  Child classes at the area HoomanSmart stores, or their HoomCo competitors.  Then followed by intermediate classes, and then advanced classes.  Of course, Hooman training is meaningless without participation by their canine masters.” Angus said

The crowd murmured approvingly in appreciation.  “Preaching to the choir” yelled the puppy voice from the back.

“Well now,” continued Angus. “We are going to formalize this education.  I propose that all hooman education be free, with baby to intermediate classes at local PUBLIC schools around the country, funded and administered by my government, overseen by Princess Ainsley, and those hoomans who have the aptitude for higher learning can attend advanced classes and specialized trick classes, along with Hooman Good Citizen classes, along with Therapy Hooman, Rescue Hooman, and Search Hooman classes, all taught at the world renowned Ainsley Institute of Scottietude Studies, to be built on land acquired near the East Wall of our Capitol City.”

The crowd leaped to its feet and paws in glorious, thunderous applause, with a lone puppy voice yelled “That Princess Ainsley, she’s the best!”

“Furthermore…”Angus continued, but was interrupted by a loud crash from the front door, and a lone figure advancing up the middle aisle, flanked by two milky white Siberian Tigers.

“Stop right there, King Angus.  For I am Lord Vlad, Lord Prince of Siberia, and I claim your Kingdom and your subjects for myself and my evil minions” laughed Lord Vlad, as he strode confidently to face Angus.

“We’ll see about that” said Angus, about to deliver a devastating blow to Lord Vlad, but his paws were stopped in mid swing by a gang of Huskies, who had sneaked in through the back exit doors.

“Tut Tut King Angus – or I guess we can call you now, plain old Angus.” Said Lord Vlad.  “Huskies, take Angus to the back and tie him up securely.  We’re going to find out where the King’s treasures are.  And mercenaries,” Lord Vlad said to his hooman mercenaries, who by now filled the rows of the auditorium.  “Take down these gold Scottie statues – and let’s melt them down and sell them.  And ship these hoomans to my reeducation camps in Siberia – we’re gonna teach them that a hooman’s place is ruling their canines – not taking orders from them!”

“Oh no you don’t Lord Vlad.  My Airedale guards are probably coming right now, and they are going to take care of you, big time!” screamed Angus

“Oh, I have already taken care of Lord Vlad big time indeed, King Angus” said Baron Bancroft, leader of the Airedale Terrier Guards, who just appeared in the front door.  “Who do you think showed him where to land on our dangerous craggy coast – and sent your Scottie Special Forces away on a Wild Labrador Chase?”

Lord Vlad then said “Enough jibber jabber from you, Angus – we’re going to bend you, break you, kill you – I don’t care what – but I am going to get your treasure!  Take him away, Huskies!”

And with that a struggling Angus looked behind as he was being carried away.  He took one last look at what may have been his fabulous Palace Auditorium, now in chaos.

The Legendary Lost City of the Scottie Kings – Chapter 2

Ainsley reading

This is the third installment of my soon to be best seller, “The Legendary Lost City of the Scottie Kings.”  My previous 2 installments can be found here on my website.

Princess Aberdeen looked through the trees at the brown fort in the clearing.  Her and her troops had just arrived at the land now known as Labrador.  Princess Aberdeen and the rest of Scottie Team 6,  had intel that the fort had been overrun by a troop of hostile Labradors.  Aberdeen, King Angus the 33rd’s oldest sister, held up her paw, to indicate to the other 11 members of her team to maintain military silence.  Just then, a window, which in that era was covered with boards and not glass, opened, and a white head popped out.  It was a Westie.

“Scottie Team 6, advance,” Princess Aberdeen said pointing her paw forward.  As the team carefully moved quietly over the clearing to the fort, the giant door to the fort opened.   Aberdeen immediately squatted down and raised one fist for her team to be ready to fire a devastating volley of auditory salvos (1).  Out came a West Highland Terrier – who Aberdeen immediately recognized as her old friend, Colonel Montgomery.

“Princess Aberdeen – what are you doing here?”

“We had word that you were attacked by a group of hostile Labradors.” Aberdeen replied, embracing the Colonel.

“What?  Who told you that?  We’ve had no trouble here at Fort Red Bay.  Labradors are well pacified now – on the mainland and also on the islands.”

Aberdeen said “Baron Bancroft ordered us here.   He told King Angus that a fast ship brought a message from you crying for immediate help.”

Colonel Montgomery exclaimed “Cry?  Westies don’t cry.  Never, I reported no such thing.”

Aberdeen growled “That Baron Bancroft – I’m beginning to wonder whose side he is on, sending me and my younger sister, Princess Ainsley, across the sea here.”

“Princess Ainsley is here?  With you?” Colonel Montgomery said, wiping a paw and slicking down his hair

“No.  She landed on a separate ship across the sound at Newfoundland Island.  She is leading Scottie Team 3 to L’Anse Auxe Meadows.  We had word a regiment of Labradors was there.  At least that’s what the good Baron Bancroft reported,” Aberdeen sneered.  She continued “Scottie Team 6, move out to our ship.  Back to Scotland, I sense trouble apaw (2). ”

Aberdeen said to Colonel Montgomery “Colonel, send a runner across the sound to Princess Ainsley, and tell her this is a wild Labrador, or wild goose, chase.  Tell her to take her and her Scotties back to Scotland with all haste.”

“Gladly, Princess” said the Colonel. “In fact, I will deliver the message to the Princess personally,” he said as he sprayed breath mint spray into his mouth.

At that moment, it was mid afternoon in Scotland, 3200 Scots-Miles away.  King Angus The 33rd was standing behind a podium, bedecked in royal finery, about to deliver a much heralded speech to the assembled group of nobles, foreign emissaries, common people, and canine friends which would transform his Kingdom- and the world.  At that moment, the door to the Grand Royal Meeting Hall opened.

 

Footnotes

(1) Auditory Salvos is the military term for the word commonly known to civilians as a bark.

(2) Apaw is the word afoot in the hooman language

(3) 3200 Scot-Miles is about 3500 modern miles

The Legendary Lost City of The Scottie Kings – Chapter 1

2017 March 30 Ainsley 02

Eddie  was looking over the darkening North Sea.  Behind him, the warm candle light glow of his stone cottage near Tarbet Ness beckoned, but Eddie, accompanied by his dog Belle, was standing still on the cliff, watching the sea hurtle into the cliffs below, powered by a suddenly strong easterly wind.  Until recently, no one in their right mind would live in such a secluded spot.  The countryside was far too dangerous.  But under the enlightened rule of the Scottie Kings, banditry was non-existent allowing residents to spread out among the kingdom.  Still, though, Eddie periodically visited the capitol city, about 20 miles away, to trade crops and livestock for goods that his family needed.

“I guess we better head in for supper, Belle, Eddie said to his golden colored dog.” Eddie said, his breath rising a wispy white in the cool dark Scottish air.

“We’ll hunt more ducks tomorrow,” Eddie said, referring to his and Belle’s nemesis, the waterfowls that were the scourge of his small subsistance farm.

As Eddie and his dog Belle entered the small cottage, behind him in the cold dark ocean a solitary light flickered in the waves,  far away on the horizon.   The light quickly became steady, and if Eddie had been still looking, he would have noticed the light was soon accompanied by first a few, then dozens, of other lights,out on the dark sea.

Out on the water, under that first light, sailed a ship.  A flagship of a vast fleet.  And on that flagship stood the Siberian Lord Vlad the Envious.  Lord Vlad was genuine Grade A 100% Evil.  Lord Vlad stood shirtless, wearing black pants embroidered with jewels from plunder.  The evil Lord was accompanied by 2 pure massive white Siberian Tigers.  Also on the ship were about a hundred officers, soldiers, and crew, and on the rowing deck and hold of the ship were 89 prisoners of war, slaves really, rowing away for 3 straight months.  Lord Vlad started with 323 prisoners on his flagship when he started.  The seventy some odd other ships were similarly equipped with prisoners, but they were also equipped with a large number of the worst, most wicket bunch of bloodthirsty mercenary soldiers known to this hemisphere.  And worse yet, the ships held thousands of the meanest canines on the planet.  Some dogs are good and occasionally, by mistake, don’t always good things.  Other dogs are neither bad nor good but sometimes do bad things.  And some dogs are plain bad, and do evil things.  Those dogs are called Siberian Huskies.  And that’s what Lord Vlad had – thousands of the evil eyed blue eyed beasts, waiting to do their evil master’s bidding.

“Your Lordship, Scotland approaches.  Where do we land our ships, sir?” said Lord Vlad’s second in command, Admiral Akira.

“It’s all been prearranged, Admiral” said Lord Vlad, stroking the head of his favorite tiger, Shakira.  “Look for the light that flashes three times, two quick, and one long.  That’s where we come ashore.  You see, we have friends among our enemies in Scotland.  With their help, by this time tomorrow, we will be feasting in King Angus’s Palace Ballroom while sifting though the kingdom’s treasure.”  Then Lord Vlad tipped his head back in a most evil, deep, ominous laugh.

 

 

The Legendary Lost City of the Scottie Kings – Prologue

Ainsley reading book

(Author’s Note – this is the first segment of a monumental piece of literature that I am writing about an important historical component of our Scottish Terrier Legacy.  More to follow as I write it – Ainsley McKenna)

King Angus The 33rd looked over his city. For centuries now, the Kingdom flourished – as the hoomans came to accept the benevolent, firm, fair, and wise rule of the Scottish Terrier. All appeared well over the King’s large and flourishing Capitol city tonight as smoke from the many chimneys curled into the cool moonless autumn sky.

King Angus sighed at his palace balcony. He was just the latest in a long succession of Scottie Kings. The lands had been united, and tomorrow, at the High Council, he would introduce reforms that would transform the kingdom. It would make the Kingdom even more a beacon for the world – and once his new initiatives were in place, he would allow his closed lands to open up to the outside world, and let the whole world observe the glory that a Scottie realm can derive for its people. And its canines. His Kingdom – and the world – were ready for mutual discovery of each other.

The only thing that nagged in his head were reports from the East. Siberia. He had heard from traders and foreign emissaries that the Siberian ruler, the evil Vlad the Envious, thirsted for Angus’s Kingdom.

But King Angus put that small nagging thought outside his mind. Though he had doubts about his Border Terrier guards at the frontier, they were recommended by his consul, Baron Bancroft. Bancroft was the leader of the Airedale Terrier Regiment, who were temporarily on Capitol Guard duty since The Kingdom’s Scottie Special Forces were mopping up the Labrador uprising across the sea to the west. King Angus hated to have his crack Scottie guards so far away, but he had no reason to doubt that the Airedales and Borders were up to defending the kingdom. Still, something didn’t seem quite right. But, Angus reassured himself, there were no threats on the horizon.

“Time for Dinner, Sire” – interrupted his man servant, Cat-fer..

King Angus’s nagging thoughts receded as he headed inside for dinner. Just then, a cold wind blew in from the East.

 

George – 7 weeks to 12 weeks

Someone gave us the idea of taking pictures of me and George every week and see how he is growing.  So we did that.

Here is George 3 days after we got him.  He was 7 weeks old here, and he weighed 8 pounds…

ainsley and george and mr bear 3-5-2016 8-31-18 AM

Sorry he is moving!  He wouldn’t be still.


 

I can’t find the picture for week 8, so here is George at week 9, and he is 11 pounds here….

george and mr bear and ainsley 3-19-2016 11-28-27 AM

I’m looking away – can’t bear to look at him getting bigger.  And as you might can tell, Mr. Bear had to get in the sauce before he could muster the bravery to be around George.


 

Week 10, I didn’t get one from the couch (lost that one too!).  So here we are in the kitchen (George weighed in at about 14 pounds)….


ainsley and george 3-26-2016 9-01-50 PM


Forgot to take a picture in week 11.  Finally, here is the picture from this past Saturday…George at week 12, and now 18 pounds…

week12 4-9-2016 2-14-25 PM

I think it is fair to say that Mr. Bear is positively hammered!

 

Headwear Required

My brother, the late great Angus Fala, loved his headwear.  Aunt Judy first introduced Angus to headwear, and he took to it quite eagerly.  As you see below here in the following slide show with just 3 of the many various headwears that Angus enjoyed.

This slideshow requires JavaScript.


In late 2014, Aunt Judy gave Angus a helmet, with his rank emblazoned on the front – and Angus called the helmet his Polymer Based Attack Repellent Cranium Cover, or PBARCC for short (that would be pronounced “Pee-Bark”).  Perhaps one of his favorite pictures was this one, taken shortly before Angus passed on.

angus in helmet 1-16-2015 8-22-26 AM


After Angus passed on to the Rainbow Bridge, the gauntlet for wearing headwear passed to me.  At first I was hesitant, but then Angus spoke to me in a dream, and told me it was my job now, the torch had been passed.  Overnight I became an excellent headwear wearer.  I got so good at it that when I travel, people take pictures of me.

ainsley pbarcc peoria 10-5-2015 2-35-53 PM


I have become an advocate of headwear.  Mr.Bear has become pretty good at it…

angus ainsley mrbear office 1-8-2015 11-46-33 AM

I even convinced the Commander, Rascal B. Dascal, a copperhead killing old guard Scottie, about the joys of headwearing, as Commander Dascal demonstrates here….

rascal b. dascal pbarcc 10-5-2015 2-45-06 PM

Doesn’t the commander look just fabulous?


 

One big problem though.  This new guy at the house, George Kerby…I’m not so sure about this boy.  We introduced him to the joys of headwear last night…I don’t think he gets it, do you?

ainsley and george  headwear 3-30-2016 6-56-00 PM 3-30-2016 6-56-00 PM

Hmmm.  A work in progress, to be sure.

Blog at ya later.

Ainsley McKenna, CEO,

Angus Fala Worldwide Enterprises

 

 

My Apologies to the Irish*

*Irish Setters that is

My hoomans are Scottie people, with one caveat.  Mama does love Golden Retrievers, and we’ve had three.  Mama’s best friend, Deb, the author, on the other hand, is an Irish Setter person.  I believe she has had 5 of them.  Right now she has two – Conner, and Jamie.

Mama has been friends with Deb for 25 years – and me and my late great brother Angus, have been friends with her Irish Setters too.  And I got plenty of pictures to prove it..

Here is Angus, in 2009, romping with Conner in the backyard of Deb’s House….2009 Sept 12 Angus Conner


Here I am late last month, stopping at the Irish Setter’s house on my way to Oklahoma:

ainsley and jamie and conner 2-26-2016 10-47-33 AM


See -we got along well.  That is we got along well, BG.  Before George.

So Deb and her daughter, Sarah, were going to come and visit us last weekend and stay several days.  Catman said “why don’t you bring your Irish Setters, Conner and Jamie?  George would love to see them!”

Deb said,”Are you sure?”

Catman:  “Sure, they will get around great.  George just a little puppy!”

Stoopid stoopid Catman.

As soon at the Irish Setters entered the Ainsley Institute, they were hounded, relentlessly, by one George Kerby.

george and irish setters 3-19-2016 11-07-09 AM

George would jump on them, try to grab their skirts, their lips, and try to grab their….well, I don’t think I can say what he tried to grab on a family oriented blog.  See the full grown adult Irish Setter running away from the 12 pound puppy.

We even made a video of George playing, while the Setters are trying to run for their lives:

So they came here on Friday, by Saturday night, the Irish Setters had packed their bags and were ready to go home.  So Catman, since he was the responsible party in the first place, offered to drive them 2 hours to Springfield, Illinois, about half way to their house, where the Irish Setter’s Daddy met him and took them on home.  And Conner & Jamie were happy, HAPPY, to leave.  I know this for a fact, because I accompanied them on their farewell trip, trying to apologize on behalf of Golden brother.

irish setters in car going home 3-20-2016 10-38-33 AM

So on behalf of me, Mama, Lily and Herman the cats, Catman, and Mr. Bear – we apologize, Conner & Jaimie, for the actions of my demon brother.  Maybe you can come visit us again someday – when George is grown up, and we have hired a priest to do an exorcism on him or sumthing.

Again, sorry guys – but not all is lost…I did get one good picture out of the visit – me, George, Conner and Jamie.

group shot adjusted 3-19-2016 11-31-14 AM

 

 

 

The Greeting


Last night at the Ainsley Institute.

A few things you are seeing here.

First, notice how I am standing at attention waiting til the female staffer and 2 distinguished guests are about to enter the side portal of the Ainsley Institure.

Then notice how George Kerby, with the attention span of a juvenile misquitoe, and a brain to match, is incapable of my stoic, respectful, military discipline. So he goes off camera to do whatever it is he does. Probably eating shoes and tasting electrical outlets.

Then the hoomans arrives. I give them a respectful dignified Scottie greeting, as is taught to young scotties in Scottie skool.

Then you see George Kerby come on screen, barreling in and acting like the hoomans just invented crust less bread or something.  Give it a rest George! They just went to chicago for the day in an exchange of money for entertainment and meals. Totally uncalled for and completely over the top on George’s part.

Well, I’m a bit perturbed by him taking the attention off where it belongs – me. And then the tail sniffing by George of me just is too much.  You see the result.

George’s thespian skills here are ridiculously overblown. If I wanted to hurt him I would have, and he would be in a cone this morning.  He isn’t hurt. Just a little old fashioned, and richly deserved, zone of hostility.

So there you go – I hope you found my Scottie viewpoint of this video enlightening and educational.

New Game from Angus Fala Worldwide Enterprises

Hey Kids!

Tired of playing Cops and Robbers with your friends?  Don’t want to be guilty of cultural appropriation by playing Cowboys and Indians????

Well, we here at Angus Fala Worldwide Enterprises have invented a new game just for you!

We call it Trump Supporter Versus Anti-Trump Activist!

Watching all the coverage on CNN and you want to be in on the action too?  But Mama won’t let you go?

Well, we have tne next best thing – Trump Versus Anti Trump!  Available now at your favorite on-line toy retailer or your closest toy department of a mass-market merchandiser!

You can pretend you are right there in the action, with the cameras rolling!  Your friend can call you a Racist Bully, and you can call your friend an Anti-American Commie, and let the fun begin!

Here I am playing an Anti-Trump Activist, and George Kerby is playing a Trump Supporter!

 

Hurry, and buy now!  My game is just flying off the shelf as fast as a billionaire in Trump One!

And coming soon, my new version, Trump Versus Anti-Trump 2.0.  It’s a multiplayer game, in which two of you can wrestle like you are on the auditorium floor, and your other friends can boo and cheer, and your Mama can yell into a microphone “Get Em Out of Here, Punch them in the Face!”

Fun for all Ages!