That man you see.

 

A group of a dozen or so German tourists stop  as Sophie is about to climb up the ramp into the back of the car. 'May we watch ?' asks a German gentleman before adding ' I have never seen such a thing before '. The family diva, recognizing she has an audience of adoring fans trots up the ramp as if she's a young thing. The Germans clap. Sophie exudes contentment. A true diva thrives on adversity. The crowd of admirers  are surprised to discover Sophie is a Polish Lowland Sheepdog. 'We thought she was a bearded collie '. 

The PONettes routines changing. She now likes a long walk pre-breakfast, a short comfort break afterwards and a longish trip , in the car, to the soft grass on the golf course in the early evening. In between, if it's quiet, there may be a  couple of brief outings across the road into the cloisters. Sometimes  she sits in the sun on the doorstep and watches the world go by. She does not like heavy trucks when they pass and she views other dogs as a threat. She has taken to howling at the sight of any canine interlopers.  Thank heavens there are no C-A-T-S around. Most of her day is spent asleep, on her side, in a downstairs bedroom with a particularly thick and comfortable rug. Last night she had a large helping of chicken and pasta which she devoured as if food was going out of fashion. 

By eight on this Sunday morning we've done a tour of the university, had a drink from the bowl of water outside the charity shop and been to the beach. Life with an old dog has been made much easier by the fact that it's been dry and warm for the last three weeks. We've barely had any clouds - let alone rain. In a country known for its reserve it is remarkable how many people come up and greet her.

The tide was way, way out this morning. Sophie discovers that it's a long way to get to the sea... and an even longer walk back. She likes the feel of water on her paws. We have two miles of sand entirely to ourselves apart from a jogger from Thomasville, Georgia who is dealing with jet lag by doing ten miles up and down the shore. 'Got some great restaurants in Tville ' he says as he gives the PONette a tickle. I promise to remember that . He's a restaurant owner, over here with a group of friends from the Rotary Club and thinks Marjorie Taylor Greene is more nuanced than the press portrayal of her. He drives a Cadillac which he believes is a world beater.

In the kilt shop window a rather fine sporran.

Further down the street the baker is laying out his window display. Nothing here is likely to grab our attention. 

Two weeks to the graduation ceremonies and the begonias are being planted out. It's a time of year when this prim old schoolmistress of a town throws off her tweeds and slips into something slinky.  The university gardeners all know Sophie so she is allowed to trespass where other dogs aren't. 'Keep off the grass' does not apply to the PONette. The gardeners and the man who owns the ice cream shop ask after her health. It goes without saying many folks here know Sophie by name whereas Angus is 'that man with a dog you see around here sometimes'.