Letter from Espargal: 19 of 2007

The worst moment of the week was dropping young Prickles off at the vet on Tuesday morning to be “done”. I pushed him, much against his will, into a small cage in the holding room and left him uneasily to his fate. Jones and I had both entertained doubts about the best course of action. But all our other dogs and cats had been snipped and the vet had assured us that this would be for the best. So we dropped him off and drove guiltily away.

The dog was a bit shaky when we fetched him again that afternoon but seemed otherwise ok. He didn’t want any supper and he had a bad night. We all had a bad night. Jonesy also had a bad morning when she discovered that he’d been sick both upstairs and down. Prickles didn’t want his breakfast and couldn’t be persuaded to take the prescribed anti-biotics. We called round to the vet for advice (between test- driving the new Honda CRV and our Portuguese classes) and were advised to try again that evening.

Our evening efforts were just as fruitless. By Thursday morning, when he continued to turn his nose up, we were seriously worried. In desperation Jonesy tried smearing fish paste around his mouth. That did the trick. In a matter of seconds the dog went from no interest in food to ravenous hunger. It was so good to see him eating again. At this point he’s almost back to his irrepressible self. I don’t think that I’d want to nurse sick kids. Nursing animals is bad enough.

As to the new Honda CRV – Jones was relieved to discover that I didn’t mean to buy one this year – it’s very nice, if a little strange on the eye. The demo car was the top of the range, 6-forward gear, diesel version with all the bells and whistles. The “panoramic” roof is something else. From the outside it looks conventional. From inside, one gets an astronaut-like view of the world through darkened glass or perspex. The car has ample power and drives beautifully. The only catch is the price. With 100% tax on top, it costs between 40 and 46 thousand euros, depending on the model. If we win the lottery I shall probably buy one. (So far Llewellyn and I have made 20 euros on our bets and lost something over 100.)

Please take as read continuing English, Portuguese and computer lessons, along with more translations, much walking, garden watering and all the usual time-consuming stuff. English and Portuguese classes are entering their final week (I got a bottle of hooch from my grateful pupils) as the schools and universities prepare to close down for the long summer holidays.

On Sunday we went along with Mike and Lyn, our English, visitors to the annual fair at the village of Alcoutim on the banks of the Guadiana river that separates southern Portugal from Spain. It’s a favourite fair, with the customary arts and crafts stalls, lots of music and plenty to eat and drink. (All it lacks is decent loos. Impatient queues of both genders form outside the small loo-huts and there’s a strong temptation, especially among the beer drinkers, to use nature’s facilities instead.)

One craft stall was selling basic wooden furniture - stools, benches and tables made of slabs of oak sitting on stout legs (cut from branches). They were selling for 15 euros - a snip. Mike (who does a useful line in old books and the like) would love to have bought the lot and flogged them at car boot sales back in the UK. But as they weighed several kilos each, this was out of the question. I bought four stools, two to go either side of our south garden bench (to hold our evening appetisers) and two for the front patio. We are well pleased with them.

Midweek, our commuting neighbours, David and Sarah, arrived down from the UK for the summer. Their house is surrounded by fields clad in head-high weeds that would win the Chelsea weed show hands down. Our neighbours expressed their gratitude to Jones for sweeping their patios and ripping out the worst of the thistles and dandelions in their garden. They are ferocious workers, the pair of them, and are planning to finish reroofing their cottage before the arrival of their family in a few weeks’ time. They’ll have to wait a few days at least as we woke to light rain on Thursday – to our delight – and there’s more due over the next few days.

As we were setting out to walk the dogs one afternoon we fell into conversation with a Portuguese neighbour who was returning home along the path below our house. This poor woman has a husband (in his 60s) who is suffering some severe mental condition. I have no idea exactly what. But it is characterised by periods of aggression and she fears for her safety. He is back at home – on medication - after being interned for some weeks. There is no solution in sight. We offered to assist her in any way we could but it’s hard to know how one can be useful.

The same thought – how to be useful – occurred to me as we returned home from Loulé one afternoon. The road sweeps down the hill in a series of bends, with a double lane for uphill traffic. Motorists tend to speed up the hill, especially those with small cars that run out of steam towards the top. Anyhow, we came around a bend to find a gypsy cart that had some how broken down and was completely straddling both uphill lanes. There was one horse pulling the cart and another attached to it, along with the usual confusion of family and dogs.

Jones says a tractor was on hand, to pull the cart to safety. I didn’t see it. I was too busy frantically flashing my lights at oncoming traffic – generally a signal that there’s a police trap ahead. Slowing down is something that Portuguese motorists do with the greatest reluctance. The following day, as we returned to Loulé, we looked out for any obvious signs of a collision. There were none. As so often, the third world and the first world live uneasily together in Portugal. We have previously witnessed a string of gypsy carts heading up a freeway in the wrong direction.

FEEDING TIME

I have been putting the finishing touches to Idalecio’s fence by placing small rocks along the base, both inside and out, where-ever there is a gap that the dogs might exploit to dig their way out. So far, its integrity seems to be holding, much to my pleasure. It’s reassuring to let the dogs out of the house in the knowledge that they can't breach the fence, given that they’re much inclined to go yapping after passers-by. The eastern border remains unfenced but it’s 100 metres from the house and has a natural barrier of thick bush.


I finally yielded to temptation and sprayed much of the bramble that has been strangling fruit trees on the field below us. The bramble is looking very sick but will probably require a coup de grâce. The first fruits of the season have ripened. Jonesy has been collecting apricots and plums from the trees as we pass by. Figs and other delights await.

You may recall that I regard myself as a classy exponent of Freecell – a card game found on WINDOWS equipped computers. The good news is that I have pretty well weaned myself of the game. The bad news is that I have found another game, Spider Solitaire, even more compelling. For this I blame my Canadian niece who alerted me to its lure.