subtle harmonies

 

Driving with Farmer Jones.

"I think the sheepdog's in heat," I muse musingly. "I'm keeping both dogs separated at the moment."

"You needn't worry," quoth he. "She's too old to have pups now. And your Jack Russell is too old to service her."

On foot of his advice I ceased to keep the two dogs separated whenever I left the house.

Aunty Mary smiled when I told her.

"I'll just do a quick check on Google," she said and began flicking around on her mobile phone with infuriating senior citizenly elan.

A few minutes later she gave me the news.

"Your Jack Russell can father puppies till the day he dies. The sheepdog can carry pups till she's thirteen."

The aunt grinned googlishly.

And the soundtrack from The Good The Bad And The Ugly went: "Aiiiiiiiiiiaiiiiiiiaaaaaaaaaaaah."

Back at the chateau I realised that Jess had indeed seemed a bit dawny these past few days, not leaving my side, almost brooding you might say.

And tonight before I went to bed I saw her with a child's teddy bear she had found in some alcove in the west wing. She took the teddy bear and placed it on the bedding in her own sleeping corner, Then she curled up beside it.

I've never this behaviour before.

God gives dignity to the creatures.

I sighed.

Any pups that come along will be welcomed as a gift of heaven.

On the other hand.

Farmer Jones you got me again.