Today I´m going to write about the Inmates of Camp Country. First a few words about US - the Honoured Guests. I, the undersigned MacViggo, is a genuine Scottish and all the same. Thus opposite to Good Old Uncle Uno, my dear Cohabitant, who is not to be recognizable after stepping over the Ulvus threshold. Some call of Nature? Uno thinks he´s Top Dog and acts like a rabied wolf, dribbling and making a lot of noise. It´s quite trying, I say. Granny says he reminds her of the films where Hitler was on stage. Luckily the embarrassement only lasts for a day or so. Gerda and Gunvald are peasant dogs and quite tolerable. They are even good enough to play with me. We have had a lot of good plays, like Chasing. Peasant dogs have an advantage here because they have longer legs. Bad luck! I make up for it by rugbytackles by the lilac-hedge. This effected with good speed can result in a Hit and a Whimper. Respect! Otherwise I get intangled in the hedge, worse luck!




The other peasant dogs ignore me, so I ignore them back. Smallest of the inmates is a Tibetan Spaniel. Unfortunately she believes that the Kitchen, where all interesting happenings happens to happen, belongs to her! As soon as I set my paws inside the kitchen-door, she tunes up, sounding like a rubber duck in Purgatory. At times it is difficult to maintain an attitude of Lofty Indifference and Highland Deafness when Tibetan ephithets are being hurled over one´s head.




Last night there was heavy rain and a Storm! It was quite exciting really. The whole garden is covered with water. In the morning we all went out to see all the little frogs and the earthworms, who have surfaced to applaud the deluge.