Tuesday, August 24, 2010

Death threats on the Downs

Today the wind nearly blew Frank off it as we strode along one of the many paths over Wilmington's tallest chalk dead body outline.

He was all cautious on the way up. But with already scented path guiding us back, plus perhaps the promise of a packet of something naughty at the Ox, he got all self assured. Maybe the steep decline helped, but he kept on trotting ahead, back legs faster than front.
And then, all of a bluster, whoosh, and sideways he went, over the lip of the path and down the grass slop a little.

He can tell when I'm laughing at him... plenty of practice I guess.
Just like wind tells us when he's happy, or relaxed. Or awake.

He looked back and spoke loudly to himself. Sod off. If you weren't so fat you'd be down that hill and they'd need some more chalk.

He's getting heavier, but not much.
We've found some food he likes, so at least he's eating a bit now. At least the vet hasn't got in touch with social services like she planned after our last visit.

You shouldn't be able to see its ribs, or this back bone which is sticking out, or these hind leg bits. Feed him a bit. And maybe let him walk on his own some, she finished, as Jess gathered him up to leave.

But he's loved too much. Sometimes we forget about the food.

Back in the Ox Frank farted appreciation for some cheese and onion crisps. People bent down to stroke him, glancing up at us wondering if we couldn't just have held it in. He never gets the blame.

So, yeah, maybe I did laugh a little.

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