Annual injection day. Bob, inquisitive as ever, bounds happily into the consulting room. Worldly wise Sophie has to be helped along. 'Helped along' means being picked up and carried into the surgery. The vet chats away to them. Neither notices the injection or the kennel cough treatment. On our way home we stop at the cafe under the arcades for a restorative half croissant.
The duo sleep for three hours solid. Over excitement or the effect of the drugs ? The vet says that he's nearly lost three dogs last week due to them eating mildewed walnuts. Something he'd never seen before. The National Veterinary Centre in Lyons told him it was down to the long wet, mild winter.
The mayor has convinced the horse farm to build a small car park on the edge of their property. In return they'll get planning permission for a new barn. The car park will hopefully remove the Belgian womans problem with vehicles blocking her gate and turning in her driveway. At the moment the proposed car park is a sea of mud.The riding school owner doesn't look very happy. Can't believe the Belgian woman is either.
This morning the clocks have gone forward an hour. It's pitch dark when I wander downstairs to let the angelic duo out for their morning constitutional. Sophie gives me her " Don't you know what time it is ? " look and tries to hide under a blanket. Bob, oblivious to the time, heads across the garden at high speed in search of squirrels. Brother and sister but such different characters.