Prickly

A prickly Taylor

A prickly Taylor

Today I pruned a wayward and extremely prickly pomegranate bush while below me, on the path between the orchard and the olive grove, Taylor took a stance.

He’s nowhere near the fence with the neighbours, behind which are ranged a massive Maremmano and an equally massive German Shepherd, but he barks and growls and looks ferocious as if to protect everything around him.

In fact the neighbours, whose choice of dog shows their own preferences, have complimented him on how big he looks standing there. (Being white makes him appear bigger, too.)

But he’s a big softie, really.

He’s lying under my desk at the moment. Every now and again he gives a bloodcurdling snarl which is either the result of a dream, or because he thinks Galileo is about to try and recover the coveted position which is more normally his!

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