Imagine my horror to see Honey come back to the kitchen door at 6.40am (vets definately shut!!!) with blood stains all down her nose.
Imagine my relief to find that she had been rummacking up on the top lawn amongst the fruit trees and her "blood" was only damson juice. Goodness knows what she'd been doing
Everything and anything goes through your mind....Ginnie had mucky coloured feathers around her bum..... himaylayan fuchsia to blame (the berries) it's gone out of the garden now....
I bet your stomach turned over when you saw her. Then what a relief when you realised what it was. Damson picking is like strawberry picking. You have to eat every other one.
Sounds like she was enjoying her little self...don' have the same problem here unless you can count Amber trying to dig to Australia...cleaver enough to do it in the shubbery though...where no one knows...or so she thinks!
