Thursday, March 15, 2012
A sweeter song.
Hot. The well now completely dry. Wilf spends most of his day, a trip to the stream excepted, dozing on the cold hall floor. His nose in my gardening shoes. Outside the frogs in the village pond in full voice .
Early evening . A happy Madame Bay arrives . Monsieur Bay in tow. Tonight she's resplendent in aubergine and green. A Niagara Falls of Purple chiffon cascading from her shoulders. The happy couple are off to Greece tomorrow with the Retired Gendarmes Association . A night in Paris en route. '' So romantic " says Madame Bay . Monsieur Bay looks less sure .
Madame Bay has come to give us her mobile phone number in case we have any problems while she's away. Angus wonders if this is the same mobile phone number we've been calling her on for the last two and a half years. He says nothing . '' The font '' dutifully writes the number down .
Seven. Still light. A bottle of champagne , just opened, in front of us . The number two vet arrives . She was in the neighbourhood and wanted to check-up on Wilf. She decides he shouldn't be called stubborn ( tetu) but valiant ( vaillant ). Laughter all round . Two weeks since the stroke. He may be old, blind, diabetic , cancer ridden and arthritic but you'd never know it. He's arrived at a stage of his journey where he's happy . In fact we've never , ever , seen him happier . Sprawled out, on his back, snoring gently. Owners worry - dogs get on with life . PON philosophy : " I shall sing a sweeter song tomorrow ".