Our day starts off well. Sophie's fur looks as though she's been groomed sometime within living memory and her paws have lost much of their their winter coating of mud and gloop. This approximation of what a 'show dog' should look like is the legacy from yesterday when she was spruced up for her visit to the vet . It can safely be said she wasn't keen on the 'sprucing up' or the vet visit.
The vets view is that the growth on her muzzle isn't dangerous. It doesn't bother her, so why put an old lady through the risk of a general anesthetic ? Everyone thinks this is a sensible plan of action.
Sophie turns her nose up at water in a dog bowl ( metal, plastic or ceramic ) but enthusiastically drinks ( slurps ) from a psychotically cheery pottery bowl we brought back from France. What is the canine psychology behind this selectivity ? Puddles are of course the best.
This morning we meet a group of early rising folk in the field by the sea. It's a group of archaeologists who've come to explore a (possible) grave site on the raised beach at the end of the farm track. ' We're hoping this will give us all a better insight into their cognition and aesthetics' says an unsmiling young woman in a aquamarine puffa jacket. Both Angus and Sophie decide that a discussion of prehistoric cognition and aesthetics is a tad too complicated at this time in the morning. We wish them all well and leave. Sophie has made the discovery that archaeologists do not carry Jaffa Cakes.
After chasing grouse ( ineptly ), glaring at the village pig and displaying a frosty hauteur to the Jack Russells who are congregating by the doocot, Sophie takes an executive decision and opts to top up her beauty sleep. The paws tell you this has been a good morning. That freshly groomed look didn't survive the first walk of the day.