Owen the nice-but-dim collie-spaniel cross loves the beach. He likes nothing better than to chase stones the pig farmer sends skipping across the shallows. In Owen's world, a walk just isn't a walk unless it involves a trip to the seaside.
So, after a few days confined to the farm because of poor weather and the pig farmer's busy schedule (really), Owen was delighted to get down to the wide expanses of Tuquoy Bay.
Stones were thrown, splashing was made, tail was wagged manically - life was good.
We turned to go back and were 20yd from the car when the day took a turn for the whiffy. Owen found something long dead and deeply unpleasant. What's a boy to do? That's right, roll in the bloody thing.
I hurried the lad back to the car, stuffed him in the back with the two terriers and - a green fug rapidly filling the car - set off for home, a little under two miles away.
After a couple of years dealing with pigs, chickens and ducks, the pig farmer is used to all kinds of nasty smells, but as I turned onto the island's main road I was weeping like an England footballer while desperately suppressing the gag reflex.
Back at Pig Towers, Owen was puzzled and disappointed to be left outside while I went in to warn Mrs Pig Farmer. A bath with Dettol was run, special dog shampoo was dug out from the back of a cupboard and the lad was led in.
He was remarkably good as I soaped him down from head to toe - twice. Wash, rinse, repeat. He emerged from the tub a little subdued, but lovely and fluffy. Seriously girls, if you want to add body then I can't recommend Bob Martins highly enough.
The trouble was, he still stank. Another bath seemed way too much trouble, so Mrs PF had a rummage under the sink and found just the thing.
Has anyone else's dog ever been dosed in Febreze?
The Steenyha' Stench forces Westray residents to take desperate measures