Yesterday was like Clapham Junction at Rock HQ, our single track lane would have, without such, ahem, careful management (yeah right) been congested more than a free buffet at a weight watchers holiday camp. At various times there were people collecting lady dogs visiting Rocky, or dropping them off (much to the exhausted canines astonishment) dropping off birthday presents, coming over to see if we were still alive after the recent plague, calling as they were buying sheep and pigs, or in one case (Grandma) escaping to get some peace and quiet.
So while various vehicles manoeuvred for pole position I spoke to would be pig keeper and shepherds about the finer points of animal management, giving them top advice like, all you need to know is on google, and don't feed your pigs scrap food from the kitchen or the food police will arrest you and you will die in prison for such a heinous crime as feeding pork boiled carrots. I did pass on the really useful tip before they left with 3 little pigs and four wikkle wambs, free food is available from fruit trees. This set me off thinking about my fruit trees (my as in I get there first and help myself) so this evening as a way of introducing Bear to the Bonsai Mountain we went to a local tree of indeterminate ownership and helped ourselves to a dozen or so pigs dinners. Rocky stood guard on the booty while Spotty tried eating the spares. Bear was so close to me that I could not get a pic of him without my leg so you are spared that example of photographic incompetence.
Back at the ranch the pigs tucked in to the juicy fruits and Bear demonstrated that he is a true clan member by getting up to his chest in pig muck and drinking from the trough. See him over on the dog blog.
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