Our dear old donkey Mimosa died peacefully this afternoon.
She slept her last hour away, warm under one of Mum’s blankets, and I am just
back from the stable where she died. We let Arran in to the stable; he sniffed
around her mouth and ears and looked a little quizzical, sniffed again and then
moved very delicately around the body.
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| Mimosa in the flower of old age |
That’s the second animal off in “l’altre barri” (the next-door
district, in Catalan.) Blackie, guardian of the Croft and the son of Perla whom
we inherited with the house, died a couple of weeks ago. We buried him under a
rose bush at a point from which he often looked out, and one of the Crofters
built a very fine chestnut bench next to the grave. Blackie was the head animal
(including the human animals) here and we all miss his solid, sensible,
guardian self. He was a lovely dog - a strong bark, a waggie tail and an addiction to having his tummy scratched.
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| Blackie the Guardian (old softie) |
1 comment:
Vaja, us trobaré a faltar quan vingui a can Parròquia. Descanseu en pau.
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