Waiting…

…for Tilda to appear at her gate.

It was an early morning vigil as the sun rose over the hill and filtered through the trees.

She was eventually rewarded by a sighting of the black and brown bombshell, who reciprocated Bean’s enthusiastic greeting.

All hell then let loose as Bean barrelled barking down the drive to our gate and Tilda bounced around at hers. Back and forth the gossip went until Tilda was called indoors. Bean slowly pottered back to the truck, where she was happy to settle down for a morning snooze under her blanket.