Wednesday - this morning the cows and their calves were lying down again when the dogs and I passed the gate into their field. Several of the cows got to their feet with that awkward, laboured action they have, protective of their young from canine intruders. How anything as big as a cow could expect danger from anything as small as Macbeth, I cannot imagine. But Macbeth holds his ground with cows and when they come sniffing through the fence at him he stares them out and barks at them with his wee high-pitched bark. Surprisingly the cattle scatter in fright and Macbeth swaggers off with his tail in the air.
On the other hand our black Labrador Inka would like to be perceived as bold and fearless. As soon as the cattle blow down their nostrils at him he turns and bolts with his tail between his legs.
By the time we got back home it was raining again. It'd mid-July and I'm thankful we're not on holiday in this soggy part of the world.