This is me having my morning paddle in the river with the
tadpoles. I check every morning to see
if they have grown any legs but the poor blighters seem stuck with just a tail,
a fairly pleasant useful tail but nowhere near as grand as mine. These are Italian tadpoles and I met one of
their parents on an evening walk yesterday but she croaked in a language I
could not understand.
Talking about languages I think I have a different name over
here as everyone calls me Bellisimo and they all do it so it must be right. You
are probably wondering where I am and all I can tell you is it is lovely and
warm and has a name like a torn face Chin Q Tearer in a National Park which
seems to be almost persistently vertical. I have never climbed hills like it,
the Boss copes fairly well but the Mrs drags a bit and I have to assist with
pulling her along, something I am not usually allowed to do. We have travelled here in the large white box
on wheels, visiting different fields with different smells on the way. I have met many new friends and they come
from all over the world, places I have never heard of. Many people from the yew
ess ay were missing their own dawgs from back home and needed a cuddle from me
to keep them going. Some small dog
friends were carried by their Italian owners and one was carried in a shopping
basket. I eyed the Boss hopefully but he
said he only carries the gun, not the dog and to keep walking. He said the same to the Mrs, but she gave him
the eye and he relented and carried her basket for her. He is such a softie......
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