Bums on seats.The worried look on the faces of dogs left on their own always arouses sympathy in me, possibly because it touches my own deep but forgotten feelings. Two black and white spaniels are tethered to a lamp post outside a shop in The High Street. One has its head down, its eyes fixed on the spot where its human disappeared. The other, I suspect the younger of the two, moves its head from side to side, not sure where the human is or when, or whether it will return. Waiting for Godot, I suppose.
Two women at lunch say they have been stung on the leg by a wasp this summer. I say that I too have been stung on my calf by a wasp this summer, and Heidi too. That makes four people all stung on their legs by wasps in the past three or four months. Word, I suggest, must be getting round.
1 comment:
Jolly bad luck on the wasp stings. No hornets this year so far, but a wasps' nest at the bottom of the garden is causing some concern. So far they don't seem too bothersome, though they do get into the house and I am discouraged from any thought of making chutney, which seems irresistible to them.
Vladimir and Estragon would be good names for two dogs. I shall add them to my fantasy menagerie along with the cats called Abelard and Eloise and the pair of hens called Esclarmonde and Etiennette.
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