Our two very ancient beagles continue to enjoy their retirement at Rock HQ. Here they are white with age in the morning sun in the Cauldron, Preston head down, Passion grinning at the camera. Preston probably has a scent of fox who plague us. Their audacity knows no bounds. A local militia man armed to the teeth arrived on the doorstep last night bearing gifts of dead rabbit for the pot, he shoots them but his mum doesn't like him bringing them into the house. Not wanting them wasted he gives them to me. Only one today. He had shot another but it was a long shot, the dead rabbit lay waiting for him. As he approached a Vixen strolled up to it, followed by three cubs and stole the prize. He was so taken aback he forgot to shoot.
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