What a beautiful day it's been. The sun has shone, the mud in the fields has become less gooey and Minty has only needed one rug (a sure sign of Spring). It cooled down quickly this evening of course, warning of frosts to come, but at least we had the day to bask in the sun and pretend winter is over.
Teddy had taken up his Spring/ Summer position (on the front porch, lying in the sun pretending to guard the house when what he was actually doing was snoozing) and I was getting encouraging garden centre feelings of buying plants and potting them out, which is always nice.
L was off school as half term started early so we took a trip to Winchester to visit Wells Bookshop that antiquarian gem hidden in the medieval streets where once, many moons ago, I worked. We left with his new half term purchase of Tintin's Lake of Sharks held out in front of him so he could read as he walked while I shepherded him down the stairs out the door and across the road to the car (hazardous in the extreme).
We headed over to the yard to feed the ponies and tuck them up for the night.
As is usual, Teddy disappeared as soon as we got there, no doubt heading off to check out all the bunny holes under the hedges. Neems disgraced herself by leaning all her weight on the electric tape until it snapped, enabling her to wander over and check up on supper preparations. This was naughty of her and she'll get a shock tomorrow when the tape is reconnected to the battery.
An hour later and the various night-time jobs were done. We whistled for Ted and walked back to the car. He appeared across the fields looking rather sheepish which made my heart sink because that can only mean one thing: he has been rolling in poo again. Sure enough when he got near enough for us to see him properly our cream dog had turned brown and it was everywhere- all over his face, his snout, ears, tail, legs, paws and body.
Why do they do it?
He has an unaccountable penchant for rolling in fox poo, which is the foulest smelling substance known to man. He knew he'd been naughty because he jumped into the boot of the car without meeting my eyes and normally he sits down and waits to be lifted in.
Back home and he slunk off into the back garden as soon as he was let out of the car, breaking into a run when he saw me following with the rubber gloves and washing up liquid. He knows very well what this means. It means a cold hosepipe in the garden.
Ten minutes later and he was clean, and shivering, and throwing me hurt reproachful looks from behind the greenhouse where he'd retreated once the shampooing was over.
Now he is all silvery white and fluffy again and smells (for the time being at any rate) sweet.