Boye

Here's a very dramatic and convincing contemporary ECW illustration of Prince Rupert's poodle, "Boye", who, sadly, was killed at the battle of Marston Moor. You will see some dastardly (left handed?) Parliamentarian musketeer shooting him at very close range. The bullets are thick and fast. Don't know who the odd-bod is on the left - maybe a witch, obviously a dog lover. There were dark Puritan tales of Boye being protected by evil magic - I hope he had some form of money-back guarantee clause in there.

Like every ECW newbie ever, I have been pondering the idea of adding a suitably sized Boye lookalike to my Prince Rupert figure (one of the few celebs who made it to Lancashire), but am now thinking that the idea, while cute, is likely to pall after about two weeks. I think Lord Byron made it to Lancs as well, so I could give him a parrot - no, on balance that might be a tad controversial. Most of the high-profile Royalist generals gave Lancashire a miss, apparently, because they didn't care for black pudding and couldn't play the ukulele.

My second picture, below, suggests that it is likely that Boye met his end through being trampled on, which is less glorious than stopping a bullet but still unforgivingly terminal.

My few days in Liverpool went well - a good balance of the familiar and the new, with some good food and beer. By a complete coincidence, my visit coincided with the announcement of the Hillsborough findings. I refuse to say anything at all about Hillsborough, apart from the fact that the findings - while still deeply upsetting - are exactly in line with what has been common knowledge on Merseyside for 23 years.

Now I am getting my kit and my knees ready for the assault on Hadrian's Wall - we assemble at base camp on Wednesday. Because this is only incidentally a sightseeing tour, it seems likely at the moment that we won't have the time or energy to get to Vindolanda, which is a bit out of our way (off the wall?...), which would be a shame - I'm working on it. This is the time at which I suddenly realise that my back-pack is in a very bad state and may need to be replaced. And then there's my socks...