Tuesday, September 6, 2011
Greater even than love .
It's chilly when we venture outside for our early morning walk . 15 degrees according to the thermometer by the door . Under his thick Polar Bear coat Wilf is completely oblivious to the cold but Angus quickly goes back inside to find a jumper . The first sartorial sign that autumn can't be far away .
The locals in the croissant queue at the bakery deal with the morning chill by wrapping up in parkas and scarves as if they're off to the Arctic . At the cafe the beer and absinthe crowd are all clustered inside for warmth . This morning it's only the family fellow and yours truly who sit at an outside table. Angus on a chair with a cup of coffee , Wilf underneath with a bowl of water . The regulars , half drained glasses of beer in front of them , peer at us through the window as if we're mad , or foreign . Same thing .
On our way home we stop the car for a walk across the fields. Blue skies , the sun now warm in that tender end of summer way . Wilf loves to wander , off lead , down the hill and across the freshly ploughed furrows. A canine assault course . There would have been a time when he'd have charged off through the walnut copse after the scent of a rabbit or a fox . Now he prefers to stay close by me . As blind dog owners learn ' to be trusted is an even greater compliment than to be loved ' .