o'cockaigne

One morning Simon, my husband, walks with the hounds through our bosgebiedje. Because there are quite a few cats in the woods and the chance of a meeting with a hare is not unimaginable, the six hounds are on the line, but because of her age, "Grandma" Amy may loose. At some point a sports trolley Simon will be forest trail on the day of the day. When the sports car was near, Simon went with the six on the side and finally did "Grandma" Amy, who walked a short time behind Simon, the same.

After a few minutes the sport car came back again, but now from behind. "Grandma" Amy, who can be terribly eastern Indian deaf, stayed like a queen walking in the middle of the path. First still in a jogged but when the sports car is near it goes into a worthy strides. The sports car could do nothing but keep tuffs at the back until "Grandma" Amy is with the rest of the group and Simon can direct her to the side. The sports car stops. A window is turned downwards and a large, barely car-fitting negro, becomes visible. "Certainly a Surinamese dog, Sir, there is no corridor in"!!!