It's getting lighter in the mornings. At seven thirty the dawn is wrapping itself round the merest hint of a crescent moon. Something untameably optimistic about this time of the year. Spring is whispering its arrival. This is an early rising dog owners secret.
Bob watches the six donkeys. Further along the lane the family fellow jumps out of his skin when he looks up and sees the two horses by the crossroads. This happens nearly every morning when he passes the horses. Bobs mind tends to wander. Today he and his sister find some wild boar droppings, These are rolled in and in Sophie's case, eaten. Angus informs his shaggy companions that they are a walking advert for cat ownership.
The angelic duo return home to explore the barn for threats.
Mid-morning Bob arrives to tell me he's happy. He is wearing his patented ' I is an happy ' face. He places a front paw on my foot to add conviction to his story.
So passes a day in which absolutely nothing happens in the village. For the PONs it has undoubtedly been the best day ever. Its not every day you get to roll in wild boar droppings.
Food rules for France. Angus breaks the one about bacon and croissants : https://www.thelocal.fr/20171221/the-many-many-ways-to-commit-food-sacrilege-in-france