I’m sitting waiting patiently to see if they are going to risk taking me to the pet’s service at church. I’ve put my Sunday best on ready to go and have combed my hair and made sure I’ve washed behind my ears. I’ve been a bit hyperactive though and I think they are seeing that as a reason against going. I was rather looking forward to singing a few hymns and howling in the appropriate places.
It’s been odd being back in suburbia. I’ve grown quite accustomed to village life. I’ve learnt quite a lot about rural ways from living in a village. I no longer thing that cereal is something that comes out of a packet in the supermarket. I think it’s something that takes hours of work to grow in the field. I’ve also learnt that when the weather is as bad as it’s been this summer it doesn’t do the crops any good, quite apart from them not being able to get the combine harvesters in to the waterlogged fields to cut the wheat. Instead of being able to cut beautiful golden ears of wheat, they are left with dull brown ears that end up as animal feed. I would be concerned that animals don’t get the best bits, except for learning that it also gets used to brew beer and if it’s good enough for beer then it’s good enough for animals. When I hear the farmers out working until all hours, I can’t help but feel grateful and begin to understand why some food has gone up in price. I think the Pet Dogs Democratic Party will need to develop some key policies to do with farming. I’m just not sure what they should be.