With no small amount of wheedling and bemoaning on my part, Farmer Ian finally gave in and accepted that another dog is inevitable. On Monday I drove to darkest Wales (via a quick visit to meet the lovely Reggie in Newport ... a border collie, of course). Sue and Brian were kind enough to put me up so that I didn't have a nine hour round trip, and their four-footed pack kept us entertained (although that's not strictly true, as Alfie is missing a leg, so is officially three-footed). It was good to catch up, and a bit odd to be staying away after the various lockdowns.
Tuesday morning, onwards to pick up Jeb from a rescue centre. He's a year old, was living in the centre of Cardiff, and other than being a bit stubborn, he's a charm. The pack is adjusting and mostly getting on, and Jeb has not been phased by meeting new people or having new routines. He's not quite sure about cattle yet, and decided that they needed a damned good barking to.
Mr Blue? His original name was Blue, because he's a blue-merle, which isn't actually very original.
What a cutie!!!!
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