The Edge of the Wold

By gladders

Watchdog

Gus is doing his you-can't-see-me flat collie pose while I'm preparing the lunch.  I've said it before, he has the full range of actions that a working collie uses for rounding up sheep, but he won't even look at one of the woolies.  Instead, his rounding up skills have been deployed on his people and his old pal Rowan (who took no notice).

Today he had his annual boosters and a check over by his friend Ellie the vet.  She declared him to be doing well.  He's still a tad over-weight despite our best efforts, and his back teeth could do with some attention if he wasn't too old to risk an anaesthetic.  Getting him to Milnthorpe is more of a challenge than it used to be, he has to be lifted in and out of the boot of the Jazz, and over zealous gardening has made my back a little delicate today.  But with C doing most of the heavy lifting, we managed.

I only took three photos today, this was one of a burst.  I didn't have time to fiddle with settings before he turned his head away.  He doesn't particularly like having a camera pointed at him by someone lying flat out on the floor.  Who does?

I shouldn't have mentioned the weather change yesterday.  The clear skies at dusk were replaced by more greyness at dawn, and then it became particularly dreich.

After yesterday's blip, I now know that the mystery of the disappearing socks is a universal issue, summarised best in this link that Hanulli posted.

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