Olive Knitting

So it's a beautiful autumn Sunday in Maberga.  The sky is brilliant blue,  the olives on the trees are plump and black, and the sun is providing the perfect warmth to balance the chill in the morning air.  The dogs and I are having our morning walk.The morning walk rule is that everyone gets their needs met.  This means I go up to the terraces to watch my fava beans grow, Q does a circuit of leaps and runs to explore, and Ruffino stands three terraces below me, waiting for me to do something exciting. 

After about 15 minutes this morning, having been distracted by the beauty of the day, I notice that the dogs are no where in sight.  I call them.  Q immediately comes bounding back to me from God knows where, completely wet.  It seems she felt she needed a bath this morning. I'm not exactly sure where she found a body of water but... whatever, individual needs and all that.  More calling because Ruff's still not around.  Hmm.  Q and I go searching, walking through the tall grass (of someone else's terrace, not mine of course because mine are now all clean!!!) and I hear some chewing.

There's Ruffino, basking in the golden morning sun...with a big freaking bloody bone in his mouth.  Lying just beyond him is the severed head of a baby goat.

I'm not so sorry to tell you that I did not make a photo of it.  If you can't form your own mental picture, be thankful...or think of the horse head scene from the Godfather, but with a smaller head and no silk sheets.


Ya know, a gorgeous fall day can just as easily be enjoyed from inside the confines of one's own fenced in garden. 

Happy Sunday.