He looks like butter wouldn’t melt. This is little Brynn after my fairly unsuccessful attempt to wear him out by walking him for a couple of hours. When we started the day he already had poo on his hind quarters and he managed to find and roll in fox poo when I wasn’t looking. It’s impossible to be mad at him though.
He was as affectionate as ever, particularly when I got the gravy bones out. I got a hug and a cuddle but I’m really glad I didn’t get a French kiss because if you look at this photo you can actually see the fox pooh on his cheek. Yuk! And boy did he smell bad again. Vintage “Eau de Brynn”.
I also spent a bit of time with a new arrival at Wiccaweys. This next photo is Tipper, who looks a bit like Martha Jones. Quite the gentleman, very affectionate and put Brynn in his place firmly but fairly when the youngster tried to nip in and steal a gravy bone.
Three weeks in and I’m still enjoying my time volunteering at Wiccaweys HQ on Sundays. If man’s inhumanity to man wasn’t bad enough sometimes, his inhumanity to these wonderful creatures beggars belief.
1 comment:
We've renamed your pal Brynnie the Pooh & I believe I heard you referred to yesterday as "Brynn's Dad"!
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