The winds from the North Pole continue to sweep over us in spite of the sun's best efforts to strong-arm spring into making an appearance. Jack and I have spent the last three days sheltering behind the cedar hedge at the front of the paddock. Fortunately, the cedar fence rails are aged to perfection and I chew on them at my leisure. Whenever the woman sees me as she pilots her vehicle down the drive she rolls down the window and barks instructions at me to stop. I merely look puzzled and indicate that, owing to the high winds, I can't here a thing. Then I carry on chewing.
Back in the summer I mentioned that the woman and various others humans participated in something called the "Ride For Cancer" (actually, it's aimed at FIGHTING cancer, but they're only human and thus my low grammatical expectations are always exceeded). Molly hauled the woman the prerequisite 25kms and other humans pledged monies for the fight against cancer. They called themselves "Team Sheaffer", without my consent, of course, but I don't mind lending my name to a good cause.
There was some distinct unpleasantness when Molly realized she did not get to keep the money and she's still mumbling about charity beginning at home. Well, today the woman returned waving a large ribbon/badge affair, stating that Team Sheaffer had come second in this money-raising business. I was shown the ribbon and then it was whisked off to the house. I hope that means they're constructing a glass case for it so it can be exhibited in my room, but I have my doubts.
They are planning on doing this ride again next summer and I am strongly encouraging them to aim for a first place ribbon. If the woman and her friends begin harassing other humans for donations now, by August I should be in possession of an even more magnificent ribbon to go with this one. Pshaw. Now the woman is blathering on about the real purpose of this ride, which is apparently not ribbons...