We did our duty today and had Florence sterilised.
Having evaded the op on Wednesday, this time she had no escape because two of us got her in the car.
She’s very sleepy this evening, and wearing an Elizabethan collar plus one of Clive’s old shirts made to (sort of) fit by being tied in multiple little peaks with string.
I prefer to think of her sitting in the orchard.
There’s a much-used Italian word – ‘furbo’ (feminine form ‘furba’) which means sly or smart depending on the context.
It’s basically what Florence is, as demonstrated by the photo.
She was due this morning to be sterilised, but the only way to get her into the car is to bribe her to jump up with a bowl of food.
Since she had to have an empty stomach for her operation, this device wasn’t possible.
So what happened? She saw straight through all my pretences, flatly refused to co-operate, and we had to cancel.
Clive is silhouetted against the light from his lamp as he plays his keyboard.
He doesn’t play carols, but he has one faithful singer.
Taylor regularly accompanies him with soaring whoops like a one-dog wolf pack.
Sometimes the other two dogs join in, and then I wonder what the neighbours think 300 metres away.
Florence has the very bad habit of digging deep holes in the gravel of the courtyard, particularly round the edge next to the pavement.
Some violets have seeded themselves in this rather awkward place but I still try to protect them.
I’m not quite sure why a semi-circle of stones would discourage Florence, but so far it seems to have done.
Taylor’s interest in Florence, much less intense than Galileo’s, seems to have been particularly piqued by the later stages of her heat.
But with him being neutered, at least there’s no danger of the patter of tiny feet.
I turned away to the sink for about 5 seconds yesterday evening.
In that time, Florence grabbed a loaf of home-made bread off the bread board on the table.
It was about a third of a loaf, but she didn’t get a chance to eat much of it because I roared her out of the kitchen.
Big dogs are great, but opportunists who can reach the table are not so great.
This is another of Florence’s finds.
She was chewing it in the courtyard and I managed eventually to get her to drop it.
It’s the naturally shed antler of a roe deer.
Florence does occasionally have her uses.