The Pyramids, Egypt
The Eiffel Tower, France
Stonehenge, England
The Colosseum, Rome
Mt. Rushmore, USA
Tuktoyuktuk, Northwest Territories
Somewhere in the South Pacific
The World's BiggestIn the short time that he’s lived here, Ernest has acquired a fair few skills. I’ve taught him to play the trumpet and the piano. 
He’s almost as good as I
am! In exchange, he’s taught me how to play the Bodhran, a Celtic drum.
I’ve also taken him to my riding lessons a few times. I think he was a bit intimidated at first, but he soon warmed up to the horses and was cantering and jumping around like crazy!
The pony he’s on is called Kiwi. She’s a dappled strawberry roan and she lives at Wynbrook Farms.
Ha! I told you I’d get him outside!
I’ve been focusing on getting him into shape. He’s gotten very good at weight-lifting, you know. Yep, he can lift a whole ten pounds!
I’ve also got him eating proper meals every day. He’s got his neeps and tatties, his finnan haddie, his rumbledethumps, and his soor plooms.
We’ve been biking every morning together, which really was tough for the little guy, but he survives. He knows we always stop by at his favourite park for a rest afterwards. I think that’s the only reason he puts up with my exercise routines...
Ernest’s friends flew in from Scotland to visit him for a few days. He just couldn’t wait to chill with his peeps!
They stayed over for a few days, until there was a slight accident involving his friends and one of my friends…
We tried to distract Ernest by introducing him to the Playstation 2 and Super Nintendo, which, I’m happy to say, did the trick! The only problem is that he never wants to stop playing it and he never goes outside anymore. I think we’ll have to do something about that.
On top of playing video games, Ernest also enjoys listening to music (Mostly Celtic stuff, though he does have a few of the Proclaimers’ albums) and reading poetry. His favourite poem is obviously Robert Burns’ Address to a Haggis.
Today Ernest decided to follow me to school. I brought him to my locker, which I have to share with him. He found it quite homey, I think.
Ernest was immediately taken to by all my teachers and I think he’s quite keen on them, too. He especially enjoyed English class, though I think he also had a good time in art class.
Phys. Ed wasn’t his favourite, though. We went to the weight room and worked out, but all the machines were too big for him and he was almost crushed by a barbell! After class, we all took a trip to the water fountain, and Ernest didn't particularly like the taste of the water, but he drank it anyway.
The only problem with his coming to school is that he got some homework. Yep, he was assigned a project, so we had to go research in the library.
Ernest really loved school, but, at the end of the day, I think he just wanted to go home…
We’d rather not talk about it, really.
Ahem… Now that mum understands that he’s here to stay, he’s been given chores to do. Every day he feeds the cat and gets the mail.
Of course, after a long day like that, Ernest enjoys long bath (Sorry for the nudity)
and a snuggle with his teddy bear.
On the fourth or fifth day we almost had an incident. You see, Ernest wanted to see my family tartan, so we went and got my brother’s old kilt. It was all going fine until I noticed the sporran.
In case you didn’t know, a sporran is worn by Scottish men on a belt around the waist. It’s a leather pouch lined with fur, not a man-purse. Anyway, the important part here is that it’s made of Haggis leather, which is why there are (Usually) three tassels hanging from it.
Right, well there we were, looking at the kilt when I spot the sporran. I make a grab for it before Ernest has a chance to see it; it was lucky for me that he was so interested in my brother’s Sgian Dubh (It’s a decorative dagger, okay?). Now I’m stuck trying to hide the sporran from Ernest, not an easy feat. So, when he wasn’t looking, I did the only thing I could. I ran to the washroom, yelling to Ernest over my shoulder,
“Trust me, it’s an emergency!”
While I was last visiting Scotland, I thought I’d catch me a Haggis and cook it up for dinner. The Haggis, as you may know, is a small, furry, three-legged animal that lives in the Scottish Highlands. It has two long legs and one short leg, so it’s well suited to running around hills. Haggises live in groups called heaps and they are very sensitive to human presences, so it’s very hard to catch one; unless, of course, you come at them face-on. You see, Haggises can only run in one direction because if they try to turn around, their short leg won’t reach the ground and they’ll tumble down the hill.There are two breeds of Haggis, the Clockwise Haggis and the Counter-Clockwise Haggis. The Clockwise Haggises have their short leg on their right side and the Counter-Clockwise have theirs on their left.
As I was climbing a hill I heard a commotion to my right. I ran to see what it was and I came across two Haggises. One was of the Clockwise variety, the other of Counter-Clockwise decent. They were standing in each other’s path, so neither of them could move. They were yawping and bawling at each other until the Counter-Clockwise Haggis, which was by far the larger of the two, reared its ugly head and chomped off the Clockwise Haggis’ three legs. I rushed in, picked up the injured Haggis, and ran to the nearest veterinarian.
After many hours waiting for the Haggis to come out of surgery, the vet told me it was okay to go see him. I went in and there he was, all bandaged up. He looked so pathetic that I had to stay with him until he healed.
When he did, he wouldn’t let me out of his sight. Of course, he couldn’t walk (I had to carry him everywhere), so this wasn’t very hard for him. I told him that I had to go back to Canada and there aren’t nearly as many nice hills there, but he insisted that I bring him with me. So I did.
On the plane ride over I told him that he’d need a name if he was going to live with me. After many hours, we decided on Ernest Ogilvie. And this is how a Wild Hairy Haggis came to live in Canada.
