Not long after Queen Elizabeth II died, Maud was invited to unveil a statue in her honour at Kingsbrae Garden. This was, to my knowledge, Maud’s first royal engagement. Mrs. Lucinda Flemer had commissioned the sculpture out of a deep admiration for the Queen and the way she had carried herself through 70 years on […]
Read More
When I was young, I was convinced I’d spend my life working at fashion magazines. And for a while, I did. But unfortunately, in all my youthful dreams, I’d never really planned for life after a certain age. When you’re young and naive, even 30 sounds ancient—so far off in the future that it doesn’t […]
Read More
When Maud was young, she possessed the sort of energy usually reserved for toddlers after birthday cake or people who insist they “don’t drink coffee” while downing Red Bull like life support. Every morning she woke up fully charged while my husband Patrick and I were still negotiating consciousness and wondering whether adulthood was supposed […]
Read More
I don’t have to ask Maud if she wants to go outside. All I need to do is zip up my coat, and to Maud it may as well be the starting pistol at the Kentucky Derby. She appears at once, as if conjured. Whatever she was just doing—napping, lounging, or conducting high-level squirrel surveillance […]
Read More
There are many ways to measure the quality of a place. Some people look at property values, school rankings, or the price of a decent latte. I look at how dogs get on. By that measure, Saint Andrews is one of the finest places on earth. Our love of dogs is immediately apparent to even […]
Read More
Maud sniffs longer in the winter. Not casually or politely. She lowers her nose to the snow with the intensity of a detective who has just stumbled onto the one detail that explains everything. Her body tightens. Her focus narrows. The rest of the world disappears as she inhales with purpose, tugging me toward snowbanks […]
Read More
We bought a dog bed for Maud when she was a puppy, which in hindsight was very optimistic of us. It was immediately clear she would never use it. Instead, she installed herself in our bed like a permanent fixture, often wedged directly between my husband and me, her head on the pillow with her […]
Read More
Maud was born on Dec. 29, one of those inconvenient, post-Christmas, pre–New Year’s orphaned birthdays that humans tend to resent. People with late-December birthdays always speak in the fragile tones of hostages: “No, it’s fine, really. Christmas counts for both.” It never does. But for a dog, it’s perfect. The humans are home, slightly dazed […]
Read More
In a town full of deer, it’s no wonder that Maud barely turns her head when passing one of the majestic creatures as they graze on home gardens lacking fences and gobble shrubs like they’re feasting on corn on the cob. And, to be fair, the deer in St. Andrews have acquired a quiet confidence […]
Read More
Maud’s favourite beach has always been the one by the Blockhouse in St. Andrews. Since she was a puppy, she’s known its rhythm, its shifting moods, its daily transformations. At low tide, the beach stretches almost to Navy Island, as though the land itself is reaching out to touch its neighbour. It can take ten […]
Read More
