Saturday, February 7, 2015
"There is more to us than some of us suppose".
The snow lighter. The temperatures glaciale. This morning what's left of the snow makes a very satisfying ( to PON ears at least ) crackling noise underfoot. Sophie squeals with delight. The village wakes.
No sign of the missing Goldens. The locals, being dog folk, alert a network of farmers in an ever widening radius.
Why can't people think before they open their mouths ? A woman from the next village stops by to tell the French teacher that there's a dangerous wild boar about . It's rumoured to have killed three hunting dogs last weekend. '' By this stage it'll have got yours ". This, as you can imagine, is not well received.
Over lunch I comment that after four nights it's a hopeless task. '' Would you give up on these two so quickly ? " asks 'the font' looking at Bob and Sophie. Point taken. We carry on with the search.
Strange how something like two lost dogs brings people together. The villagers may be constantly squabbling but they respect the teacher and the education she imparts. They are uncomplicated in their willingness to help. A French country belief in the sanctity of the world and its creatures
One of lifes little crises. Too small for a diary but recorded here for what it says about people.