Summer is flying by - at least in theory. The weather this week has been cool and, on occasion, damp. The dogs are amused by degree. The Cirneco does not do wet. No wet feet, no wet head; Ms Trebia simply does not approve water falling from the sky. Preference for rainy days would be sitting on a lap with a blanket at the ready in case of a sudden chill. The Airedales and Welsh are far more stoic. Clint continues to make slow and steady progress. His appetite has improved but the activity level and interest in more than a slow wander around the yard with Lee is the best he can do. The rest are perking along, managing the property and setting the rules for the visitors. Billy has been somewhat less welcoming of Clint in the house - in Rocky's spot in the den. Rocky shrugs it off but Billy has taken affront on his behalf.
The swallows have flown and are enjoying their freedom as they learn from their parents how to hunt and gather insects throughout the neighbourhood. They occasionally return to roost over the door but are busy through the day taking instruction and readying themselves for their trip south. Other feathered babies are appearing at the feeders. Less enterprising (and less useful) than the swallows, the baby doves, starlings, finches and catbirds are now in evidence. Most are collegial but the odd bad tempered fellow is showing his colours as each determines his schedule and favourite seed from the bounty presented by Our Ken. Mort the frog is maintaining the pond but looks increasingly alarmed as it threatens to overflow its banks. More rain is not needed. The most interesting moment of the week occurred early yesterday morning. Lee was out and about shepherding Old Dolly into the house when an odd sound came from overhead. The resident crows were talking but in a voice that was unknown - since they have been in residence for three decades, a new voice was startling. Searching for the reason and looking to the usual post of our family crows, the reason was immediately evident. Sitting regally at the top of the oak tree, the usual perch of the crows, was a massive bald eagle, surveying the Regalridge domain as well as the local environs. A quick re-entry to the house of the Welsh puppies was in order and Our Ken was dispatched to encourage Mrs Eagle to find alternate accommodation.
The gardens are soggy. End of garden update.
The kennel continues to welcome summer campers. Buddy is here for his week end pilgrimage. His flagpole tail is waving over the heads of the Airedales in the adjoining pen. Shadow has just departed, happy to see his owners after a trip to the frozen island of Newfoundland. What a dreadful July they are having on the Avalon. The Hipsons have a new Labrador - a fabulous girl and in Our Ken's estimation, the best of the several they have had with us over the decades we have been here. Sochi departed this week after a long sojourn. He is a great little Welsh - Tim and Elke have managed his transition into adulthood well. A couple of Chantelle's little ones are here while she vacations at her cottage. Rumour has it that it is less soggy there than here and that is likely a good thing since Miss Matilda is not fond of water falling from the sky. Fiddler arrived today with a grin and kick of his heels.
The fruit stand opposite is replete with early summer vegetables. Hodge podge has now happened. Reg and Tim have arrived, so a meal of grilled rib eye (Hants county beef), hodge podge and a lovely open strawberry pâte brisée tart landed on the table. And the rain continues . . .
The swallows have flown and are enjoying their freedom as they learn from their parents how to hunt and gather insects throughout the neighbourhood. They occasionally return to roost over the door but are busy through the day taking instruction and readying themselves for their trip south. Other feathered babies are appearing at the feeders. Less enterprising (and less useful) than the swallows, the baby doves, starlings, finches and catbirds are now in evidence. Most are collegial but the odd bad tempered fellow is showing his colours as each determines his schedule and favourite seed from the bounty presented by Our Ken. Mort the frog is maintaining the pond but looks increasingly alarmed as it threatens to overflow its banks. More rain is not needed. The most interesting moment of the week occurred early yesterday morning. Lee was out and about shepherding Old Dolly into the house when an odd sound came from overhead. The resident crows were talking but in a voice that was unknown - since they have been in residence for three decades, a new voice was startling. Searching for the reason and looking to the usual post of our family crows, the reason was immediately evident. Sitting regally at the top of the oak tree, the usual perch of the crows, was a massive bald eagle, surveying the Regalridge domain as well as the local environs. A quick re-entry to the house of the Welsh puppies was in order and Our Ken was dispatched to encourage Mrs Eagle to find alternate accommodation.
The gardens are soggy. End of garden update.
The kennel continues to welcome summer campers. Buddy is here for his week end pilgrimage. His flagpole tail is waving over the heads of the Airedales in the adjoining pen. Shadow has just departed, happy to see his owners after a trip to the frozen island of Newfoundland. What a dreadful July they are having on the Avalon. The Hipsons have a new Labrador - a fabulous girl and in Our Ken's estimation, the best of the several they have had with us over the decades we have been here. Sochi departed this week after a long sojourn. He is a great little Welsh - Tim and Elke have managed his transition into adulthood well. A couple of Chantelle's little ones are here while she vacations at her cottage. Rumour has it that it is less soggy there than here and that is likely a good thing since Miss Matilda is not fond of water falling from the sky. Fiddler arrived today with a grin and kick of his heels.
The fruit stand opposite is replete with early summer vegetables. Hodge podge has now happened. Reg and Tim have arrived, so a meal of grilled rib eye (Hants county beef), hodge podge and a lovely open strawberry pâte brisée tart landed on the table. And the rain continues . . .
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