After wee Jocky's less than enjoyable visit to the vet yesterday (he hated being pinned upside-down on the operating table and having his wound scrubbed with iodine - didn't notice the two injections though), I thought he'd be less than enthusiastic about joining Sprocket et moi for a soiree walk up the lightning tree. And I was right. So, being the sympathetic and conscientious patrol leader that I am, I cunningly clipped the dog collar round his neck while he was hiding under the upstairs desk, attached the lead and dragged the miserable little git down the stairs and to the car, much to his obvious disapproval, and off we went.

P1030560P1030561P1030554P1030558

Did a leisurely lap of the top field at the lightning tree which Jock seemed to enjoy then returned home and dished out their grub. Half expected Jock to ignore it but he ate about half before having a well-earned kip while Sprock and I sat outside in the last of the evening sun. Been ridiculously sunny (and hot!) for about a fortnight now. Don't know how much longer this will last but we'll enjoy it while we can (sunny again ce matin). Anyway, I digress. While I was out there swigging my aperitif, neighbour Alain turned up to feed his big, old, blind, hunting dog (lives in a kennel in the shadow of the church wall - the dog that is, not Alain) and we had one of our quick chats (they're always quick because Alain doesn't speak English and I hardly speak a word of French). Told him about Jock's mauling. He asked if I recognised the hunting dogs' owner (Alain knows all the hunters around here; come to think of it, he knows everyone). Said I didn't but his hunting partner was wearing glasses and seemed vaguely familiar. "Aha!" said Alain (or words to that effect), "they're the two local gendarmes (policemen)!"

Soon as Alain said that, I remembered the two cops visited me a couple of years ago after a house up the road had been burgled (a rare event round these parts). Asked if I'd seen anything suspicious or if a stranger had knocked on my door selling spuds a few days before the break-in. Told 'em the spud man had indeed visited. They concluded that he must have been some foreign (they meant not local) itinerant, probably a gypsy, who wasn't a spud seller at all but who used that as an excuse to see if any houses were unoccupied holiday homes that could later be raided. Anyway, I digress again.

The fact that they're cops would explain their concern about Jock's condition when they visited minutes after the mauling. In France it's illegal to not have a dangerous dog on a lead in public. Technically (as the vet explained), I could go to the cops and report the attack. But..., well, get the picture? And, being a foreigner in redneck country, there would probably be 'repercussions'! I could, of course, visit the cop in question and I'm sure he'd be happy to re-imburse the vet's fee, but I think it'll be better to just keep things quiet. If and when he discovers I've been to the vet and paid the bill (these things get around) he'll know he owes me a favour. One never knows when that may come in handy!

Anyway, Jock progress report: He's been snoozing, which is good. Haven't been able to have a close look at the wound but have managed a close-up photo. Looks a bit nasty. No way will he allow me to put iodine on it so am hoping it'll heal naturally. Looks like he's been licking it a bit which, I think, is good but I could be wrong. Far as I know this is what animals do in the wild; saliva is apparently medicinal. I'll keep an eye on progress. If there's any deterioration it's straight down the vet's.

P1030572