In my recent article entitled Moshé's future companion [display], I mentioned my neighbor Sylvie from Presles: the girl who'll be selling me a young donkey in October. Her partner William had a few days off from his job in the Alps as a cattle drover (not a shepherd, as I said mistakenly), so he drove down to Presles with his canine companions: two adult Border Collies and their three pups. And, yesterday, I invited everybody to lunch here at Gamone.
This photo shows the male pup I intend to acquire, in about a month's time. He's sleeping with his mother Uana (a name derived from the Irish Gaelic word for "soul"), accompanied by Uana's own mother.
This year's dog names in France should normally start with the letter "F". So, with the help of my children, I began to examine a list of possible names. Happily, we soon reached a consensus. The pup will be named Fitzroy, which is a fine name for a dog in France. This is largely an allusion to the ancient ancestor mentioned in my article of December 20, 2009 entitled One of my ancestors was a bastard [display]. Having said this, I hasten to point out that, unlike my ancestor Richard FitzRoy [1186-1270], the little pup is not at all a bastard. On the contrary, he's a pure-bred animal, with the classical markings of a Border Collie. And surely, in his genes, he has an urge to round up animals of all kinds. Maybe, later on, to keep him occupied, I'll get around to acquiring a few ducks or geese.
Now I have to get to work building him a kennel, because Border Collies are outside dogs, all year round. It's too early to imagine the future relationship between Sophia and the pup. As soon as the adult females jumped out of the car yesterday, their snarls informed Sophia, in perfectly clear dog talk, that their pups were not to be disturbed. Sophia got the message instantly, and she spent most of the sunny afternoon on her own, inside the house, as if to say that she didn't give a damn about my guests.