A PON with a mission .

It's finally stopped raining . Into town to discover that a sausage stall has appeared in the market square next door to the newsagents shop . Within seconds of being lifted down from the back of the car Wilf is off , nose held high in the tantalizing air . A small white polar bear on a mission . The family fellow sits , immovable , entranced , in front of this catalogue of earthly delights .

As we join the beer and absinthe set for a morning coffee and croissant at the cafe he carries a small spicey beef batonnet in his mouth . A study in fluffy , four legged , busily chewing , happiness . The best fifty cents I've ever spent . Sometimes rules are just meant to be broken .

Gaps in the rain .

A heatwave in the US , grey skies and rain here in France . Wilf wisely times his pit stops to coincide with the occasional dry spell . " In youth we learn , in age we understand " .

The tressle table and the baguette .

To the market with Wilf . The cheerful bread stall owner ( who continues to think Angus is Australian ) slips our canine companion the end of a baguette . Wilf , delighted by this not wholly unexpected turn of events , settles down under the tressle table, his heading poking out, a sliver of bread proudly positioned between his paws . Happiness .

Onto the cafe for coffee and a croissant . Yours truly , who has been lecturing the family about Wilfs diabetes , is caught on camera , slipping a sliver of dough towards a small ever hopeful polar bear . The polar bear then looks expectantly around . '' When hope is hungry , everything feeds it "

Tired contentment .

Party time for Wilf . Usually he's tucked up in bed by ten thirty but last night he stayed up until gone one ' chilling ' with his boys . This morning he's regretting the excesses of the night before . On his first walk of the day he managed to saunter straight past Kelly without even noticing her . A long , restorative , post breakfast nap is on the cards . In readiness he's taken up position in the middle of the upper hallway and the likelihood is he'll stay there until he joins us for lunch . Tired contentment . The perfect day lies ahead for an old PON and his owner .

A peaceful charm .

The morning news headlines a shock . A madmans work . All those Scandinavian capital cities - Oslo, Stockholm, Helsinki and Copenhagen - have such a peaceful charm in the summer . Can innocence return ?

Nothing like a patient saunter around the village green with a blind old sheepdog to restore balance and give unspoken thanks for the inestimable value of a life free from fear . For our Norwegian friends and god children this morning a Polish phrase which I hope is true : - ' When you get to your wits end , you will find, God lives there ' .

A quieter spot .

Hot and humid . The sort of day to stay indoors or sleep under the shade of a chesnut tree . At lunchtime a short , ferocious , mountain storm that has the rain exploding out of the gutters . Faced with the unruly elements Wilf moves from his spot on the front doorstep to a quieter spot inside . His executive decision for the day . The sort of PON wisdom that knows that ' Everything will be okay in the end . If it's not okay , it's not the end '.

Better , not bitter .

Madame Bay is here bright and early . M 'Ongoose receives an alarmingly passionate birthday kiss from the saintly septaguenarian . No such thing as a demur , anglo-saxon style , peck on the cheek where Madame Bay is concerned .Today she is sporting a purple and orange head scarf , what appear to be shiny blue track suit bottoms , glittery gold open toed sandals and a long orange and green linen striped jacket secured at the front by red buttons the size of milk bottle tops . She brings with her a large brown cardboard box full of gaudily packaged French cleaning products . These all appear to have jaunty , near identical , names like Jif, Mif, Splif or Bif .

Madame Bay is soon cheerily at work in the family bedrooms with this toxic mix of gallic chemicals . She's whistling while working so all must be well with her flock of daughters and grand daughters . Wilf , who hasn't yet understood why Madame Bay is getting this particular run of rooms ready , embarks on a slow walk to the fire hydrant before retreating to the relative peace and calm of my office for a leisurely three hour nap . His life now measured by a fixed routine of food, pit stops and sleep . Amazing how the old fellow maintains an attitude that says " the difficulties of life are intended to make us better , not bitter ".