In the orchard on the corner, a rather histrionic flock of guinea fowl berated us...
... and we went on to greet our dear friends, two beautiful, gentle, pregnant Breton ladies, who always come to the fence for me to blow up their noses and kiss their soft pink muzzles.
Molly doesn't mind them, she was brought up with horses, but was happy when we went on into a field with soft, clean, new grass, where she ran and rolled and barked like a mad dog!
1 comment:
Here you are! How exciting.
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