I went to the vet the other day for Ozzy's jabs. She told me I had to wash Ozzy because he smelled. I told her that we had just returned from the forest. Ozzy, I pointed out, is not a little pooch who sits on Mummy's lap. ( Actually he does sometimes. He is so big and so affectionate, it turns into a yoga exercice.) He is a macho intact male and when he is in the forest he bathes in filthy pools, rolls in horse manure, mud, a decomposing bird, decomposing leaves, that sort of thing. No wonder he smells.
Bathing Ozzy means wearing protective clothing. My waterproof sailing gear, actually. It is an outside summer job. I need to get the hosepipe out. He hates it, detests it.
Thank you to Cornish Dreamer: "Your compassion for animals always shows on the blog entries that you write and I find that to be a compelling reason to continue reading your blog." and to Violets Vintage: "You are an artist because you transform misguided dogs into perfect pets!" and to Winchester Whisperer: "You are the voice of reason."
This is where I live.
Aung San Suu Kyi freed on 13th November 2010.
"If liberty and equality, as is thought by some, are chiefly to be found in democracy, they will be best attained when all persons alike share in the government to the utmost" Aristotle. Click on picture.