" Wilfeee ! ". 'The font ' and I were treated as mere appendages as the family fellow became the centre of the saintly septaguenarians attention. The long suffering Monsieur Bay was sent to the kitchen of the village hall and returned with a paper plate of choucroute. Wilf sat patiently, an angelic smile etched onto his face, while it cooled down. A tongue rolling, paws curling combination of sauerkraut, sausages, boiled meats and potatoes. The look in his eyes said " this must be heaven ".
Thanks again for all your kind support. I sometimes feel that there's an invisible world of well wishers following us down the lane - a watching pack of Labradors, Airedales, Boxers, Greyhounds, Scotties,PON's and all. Wilfs extended family.