It usually takes twenty minutes to get to the market. Today it takes an hour. The farmers are blockading the motorway exits and burning tyres on the road that runs along the riverbank. Something to do with a lack of government subsidies. We take a detour inland but the protesters have parked tractors and combine harvesters across the bypass. The PONs think it's wonderful. Angus less so.
Some Turbot from the fishmongers. At the Italian delicatessen Rabbit and Rosemary Ravioli. The angelic duo get given some Pecorino. Bob shows his overbite and does his soft shoe shuffle. Angus is always worried that some unsuspecting passer by will mistake the joy overload for a fit.
It takes an hour to get home. Angus listens to the morning news. You know when there is going to be a bout of Brit bashing when the announcer starts to refer to ' Nos amis les anglais '. Today there is a twenty minute diatribe about why Europe would be better off without us .
Four shaggy donkeys have appeared in the field next to the orchard. They munch away and blithely ignore the PONs.
Sophie plays with lamb on a rope ....
... while Bob joins his master on a tour of the village. The French teachers Labradors have run off again. She is distraught. They've managed to dislodge a fence post and dig their way out. We walk for two hours but there's no sign of them.
Just another quiet day in deepest , deepest France profonde.
This is interesting : http://www.marketwatch.com/story/this-top-nyc-dog-walker-makes-110000-a-year-2016-02-05?dist=countdown