These recent phpotographs were taken at a hydro-electric dam in the Highlands. On the way I stopped to eat my picnic lunch on a large granite rock beside the path. No sooner had I unpacked my sandwiches (ham and tomato, since you ask) than I was accosted by an excitable black labrador which bounded straight up to me and made a lunge for my lunch. I fended it off, and as I did so a middle-aged blonde woman appeared, shouting at the dog to leave me alone. It obeyed her, albeit rather shamefacedly, and the following conversation ensued:

she (clinging onto the dog's collar): Sorry about that. He'll eat anything I'm afraid.
me: Well he's not getting my lunch!
she: No, but given half a chance he would. He ate my glasses this morning.
me: Really? You mean he chewed them?
she: No, he ate them. 400 pounds worth of glasses. Last week it was my daughter's brace for her teeth - now we have to get a new one made, and goodness knows how many other bits and pieces he's swallowed. I can't leave anything lying about. He ate my car keys once.
me: Sounds like he has a problem.
she: Well, a vet told me that this kind of behaviour isn't all that uncommon in labradors. He particularly likes small bits of clothing - socks, underwear, gloves, but they all come out the other end undamaged. Have you ever seen a perfectly pooed sock?
me (clutching my sandwiches): No I haven't, but I suppose you'll eventually get your glasses back then?
she: From experience things like that don't 'travel' quite so well.
me: Perhaps you need a new dog?
she: Oh no, he's so sweet and good-natured, I could never part with him. The only thing he doesn't eat are soft toys. He hides them in piles under beds or behind the sofa, then lies down and sleeps surrounded by them.
me: I see.
she (breezily): Well, enjoy your lunch.