Non, I repeated, only it sounded more like noooooooooo.
But, non, vraiment, there is a wolf around, the gendarmes saw it fifteen days ago near the lac (it's more of a pond, really) beside the Auberge Pierry - about a kilometer from our house.
Holy shit seemed like the only fitting reply. And there I was, getting my knickers in a twist because the troupeau of mouton have taken up residence in the woods beside the arena (and just when Aero was going so nicely, too). It seems there are bigger things to worry about than woolly bleaters with bells around their necks and their accompanying savage guard dogs.
|Savage horse-eating killer death sheep|
Gulp. Do my dogs really have to go out for a pee last thing at night?