Woke up at five this morning to a howling gale and the sound of hail stones beating down on the roof. Digby, who is frightened by extreme weather, dragged himself up the stairs and hid under the bed while Wilf feigned a top dogs indifference and majestically slept through the storm at the front door. After breakfast we went for a walk to find the whole countryside covered in a layer of ice a couple of centimetres thick. Digby who has been suffering from a sore hip refused to move outside the gate while Wilf went chasing after a ball at high speed cavorting through the ice encrusted grass in the olive groves to his hearts content. It was registering minus ten on the outside thermometer which is a decidedly un-Italian temperature. Digby is now back in and reclining on his new bed in front of the fire. I shall try to entice him out for a walk when the sun warms up the air.
Benign to malign
2 years ago