Beurre blanc.

It's wet. Very wet. The big dolloped rain is hurling itself relentlessly at the windows while the Pyrenean wind is enthusiastically tearing the sodden leaves from the plane trees. This morning Wilf stuck his nose out of the door but quickly decided to head off to the warmth of the kitchen. My trip into town for croissants and milk delayed while a reluctant passenger was rounded up and enticed into the car. That magic canine command; ' Croissants !'. It never fails to get him moving.

In the supermarket a strange harbinger of Christmas - Ferrero Rocher. A large display has joined the foil wrapped chocolate Santa's in the ever expanding confectionery / soft toy section. You never seem to see them at any other time of the year. Has their awful advertising been unleashed on an American audience or are they only destined for Europe ?

It's amazing. For more than nine years we've carefully monitored everything Wilf eats. Low protein diet, no wheat products, minimum fat. Despite our attention to what he ate he developed allergies , pancreatitis and myriad stomach upsets. To top it all he would manage to put on weight no matter how strict his intake of food. Now on this final part of the journey he's enjoying a little of everything we eat . And he's thriving. No gluten allergies, no colitis and a svelte, trim figure that would make you think he's spent every day of his life rounding up sheep . Last night those low protein kibbles were jazzed up with chicken and chanterelle pie, broccoli in beurre blanc, and rosemary roast potatoes. Folks who read this blog will know exactly what I mean when I say that a dogs face can light up with pleasure. To follow - coconut icecream. Bliss.