53 APRIL27TH.
The little black and white dog, who for years has lived in the barn and yard of Sylvie and Bernard is slowly dying and yaps no more She has a distended stomach, moves stiffly, lies for hours and can pass nothing solid . I suggest a blockage, a cancer perhaps, but Sylvie and B. don’t think in terms of vets, so have syringed some olive oil into her, front and rear. They live in hope but I go and speak a few words to the gentle girl who lifts her head heavily and stares at me with doleful eyes until my heart falters and I turn away. There is a rank smell emanating from her stall. She has annoyed me for years with her noise but she should be eased out of this mortal coil quickly and painlessly.
3 or 4 Griffon Vultures swirl and loop in the high thermals, their pale heads catching the light and their long and spread fingered wing tips, dark and shadowed. Earlier in the day I had seen the 2 Egyptian vultures, very distant, but with the binoculars their back wing edge markings clearly visible.
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