" Incroyable ! " .

Spring has arrived and with it sunshine and a wave of 'incomers '. It's the half term holidays in Paris and the summer homes are being opened up and dusted down after the long winter . The car parks suddenly full of large cars with Parisian number plates. The little shops in the market town now selling garlic and upmarket roulades to Prada clad spouses.

The German billionaires are back at the chateau. Wilf spends much of the day barking at a new, and very shiny , Arctic white Ferrari that cruises noisily up and down the lane . Each time it hits the speed bump there is an expensive crunching sound from the suspension. Wilf seems to find this noise strangely satisfying .

The senior vet stops in on his way back to the surgery . He's been out visiting a herd of cows at a neighbouring farm and happened to be passing. He gives Wilf a quick fingertip check . His conclusion ?. '' Dix-sept mois ! Incroyable ! ".

We sit , under the mimosa, enjoying the warmth from the evening sun. Wilf falls asleep on the vets feet . For him not so much a vet more an old friend . Time to share a glass of champagne and toast the healing powers of unburdened optimism ; PON style. Our laughter just about drowns out the burble of the Ferrari .