A few days ago was the first morning in a while here in deepest darkest Bretagne that the grass wasn’t white during our morning constitutional.
Whilst walking, I saw a couple of deer, a ragondin, a couple of rabbits and a hare. Not an unusual haul for a mornings wildlife viewing here, but the three hounds that accompanied me saw nothing except this:
Piles of steaming, rotting, sweet smelling, decomposing cow cack to eat and roll in.
On our return home, the dogs went straight into the laundry room, where they stayed until the Laydee of the House returned so we could wash them. Vile things.