Mismanagement writ large.

When Emma said she was going away for the weekend and would I have her two dogs for bed and breakfast I naturally said "of course!" After all ,my three, plus two extra , what difference could it make?
Realistically what were the chances of that said weekend coinciding with my daughter in law going into labour? There are after all fifty two weekends in the year.
Needless to say the two events harmoniously joined up.

I say harmoniously but in truth, when an additional two dogs were dropped at my door to supplement the rudely squabbling five already in residence, any one venturing to my front door was swept aside by a flowing canine tide if they tried to enter.

My two grandchildren, a three year old and eleven year old, emotionally rising fifteen, barely added to the clamour.
My sanity was saved by a valued friend who came, saw and helped to conquer the havoc.

Walking round the fields was a nightmare of a quick head count every five minutes to ensure that no sheep were being molested, rabbits killed or pheasants snatched.

No matter, the welcome phone call to announce the safe arrival of baby Toby, all 6 pounds 15ounces of him made the trauma worthwhile.

When the tsunami of dogs receded on Monday evening my three old ladies lay down to recover with a general air of exhaustion about them.

The following day however, Scrumpy, by now fully revitalised, caught a baby rabbit just to show off.

I carefully placed it on the gatepost to provide the friendly local buzzard with a free meal. Sadly this less than agile bird dislodged it and Scrumpy, having regained her trophy was not letting it go again. For a small dog her ability to keep her jaws clamped is astounding.
I retired defeated and listened to the scrunching of little bones rather sadly.