<html><head><style type="text/css"><!-- DIV {margin:0px;} --></style></head><body><div style="font-family:arial, helvetica, sans-serif;font-size:14pt;color:#000000;"><DIV>Morse is adjusting to life in Devon slowly, helped by the fact that he has befriended the owner of a pet shop in our local town and goes in there daily to receive a treat, wag his tail at the owner's collie (who stares suspiciously back) and drool over the knuckle bones in an open box. Also scavenging on the streets is back on the menu; he found a discarded chip today, some crumbled biscuits and licked some ice cream from the pavement. Before we moved Morse was also unhappy travelling in the car, now he loves it. He waits for the car to pull up and then waits to be lifted in, with wagging tail. The down side to this is that when we return home he sits in the car and refuses to come out. Today we went to the beach and we were just taking in the
scenery and breathing in the sea air, and I looked around. Morse was off the lead. With the whole beach in front of us, many other dogs were jumping into the waves and playing on the beach. What was Morse doing? Squeezing through the wire behind us to a piece of grass that clearly had NO DOGS written up, to find a pile of fish bones with a fox turd on top of it.</DIV>
<DIV>*sigh*</DIV>
<DIV>We are still drooling for Copper and Mr Cooper, and now sending fresh drool to Alice and Gus.</DIV>
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<DIV>Becky, Morse and Pumbaa ATB </DIV>
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