Sophie is quite oblivious to the fact that part of the flock has gone AWOL. Bob, however, is distraught. He won't eat. He won't drink. He starts his morning sitting on the stump seat staring out forlornly onto the lane.
A lengthy walk across the fields and a lengthy mano a mano and he finds his composure.
In the afternoon it clouds over. We set off in the car for an adventure.
We see a van for travelling clowns.This I notice is paid for by the regional government. Austerity still a word unknown to the French. Bob christens the tyres.
We walk down the driveway of a hotel that promises an unusual welcome. How intriguing. Has it lost or gained something in translation ?
This morning Bob is up, in the dark, at six thirty and on his stump seat. Sophie is with me in the kitchen.
Oh, 'The Font', please hurry home - we can't bear to see our best boy so unhappy.
ReplyDeletePoor Bob. When will his flock be reunited?
ReplyDeleteI hate to say it, but this may be why he returns, so slim from the kennels?
ReplyDeleteBless is nose.
xx
Poor Bob, I hope the Font returns soon.
ReplyDeleteI had the same thought as Tina and Merlin. ( And a friend's experience was that kennels tell you everything is fine even when it is not.)
ReplyDeleteA sensitive soul, our Bob.
Dearest Bob. With Sophie as your sous-chef, how can you go wrong?
ReplyDeleteI think the clownenroute van might be utilized on the campaign trail by one of our Republican presidential candidates.
Stephanie you naughty girl...you made me laugh out LOUD!
DeleteBob is a real family/pack fellow isn't he
ReplyDeleteIsn't it incredibly heart breaking to watch one of the pups just waiting. One of ours does that too and it is so sad.
ReplyDeleteHope the Font returns before Bob loses too much weight.
ReplyDeleteWhere is fury fox? Might a lively game of throw the fury fox help Bob?
ReplyDelete