A hazy-clear morning: the hunters are out. I'm woken by the barking of our dogs and there they are, four or five of them. Plus dogs with their long legs and tails questing about. Pico my dog makes hysterical protest, from our back terrace, from down on the land. I yell "hijos de puta" from the terrace - I think they hear. Their dogs cluster under the back wall, one of them makes a high whimpering, which must be a sign of prey because a hunter comes over and with the dogs clustering round him hauls out a rabbit. Then all of them confer, the dogs running over our land, Pico rampaging, and finally, again, they go no further; they retreat. followed by the dogs.

I hate them. All the more because of researches on the internet yesterday on the law concerning cruelty to animals. None in Spain, it seems - alone in Europe - not least because it might effect bullfighting which is worth big money. PP refused to bring in legislation, but the present government, PSOE, might. But the worst sufferers, it seems, are the hunting-dogs 'galgos' - greyhounds - not so much like our greyhounds, much more thick-set and not only used for racing, evidently. Once they age they are brutally disposed of - starved - hung- burnt alive - buried alive. I won't go on. Even when young they are shut up/chained up all the time and underfed until the hunting season comes round again. At least then, have a good time, loping, tails waving, amiable, not injurious to anyone or anything, except rabbits.

On the other hand, the police here, Handsome says, did ban a man in their community from keeping a dog because he starved a previous one. So things can be done.

Handsome and Mrs well-reconciled. Beloved thinks Handsome got out of it too lightly. And tells him so. She might just find her pergola finished when she arrives home...

Little wind. It went round to the east yesterday but has swung back towards the north. Maybe or maybe or not we are in for a calima. Grannyp