Friday, July 8, 2011
A supermarket PON .
The last night before ' the font ' returns . Nothing in the fridge and the supermarket closed . Time to head off into town for a beer and a pizza . The restaurant full but the waitress shows us straight to a small table by the bar . The benefits of dining with a miniature white polar bear . Moments later the chefs Yorkshire Terrier wanders out of the kitchen and greets Wilf like a long lost friend . The tourists look at this canine rendezvous in horror. Wilf , oblivious to the discussions about hygiene going on around him , settles down for a doze under the table . Every so often I reach down and tickle him behind the ear . At the end of dinner he gets three small pieces of pizza crust as a reward . He smack his lips . An English lady glares .
Nearly nine months into a journey that was supposed to last three days . It's time to stock up with all those ' dog ' products we never thought we'd need to buy again . The last of the Zymox ear cleaner has been used up but a new, hastily ordered batch arrives , just in time , from the States . At the vet store a picture of one of Wilfs cousins on a packet for a tick collar . I laugh out loud . Wilf is proof positive that the old phrase " Believe you can and you're halfway there " is true .