Hilary Briss eh?

Having not yet tired of watching my The League of Gentlemen DVDs over and again, I find this story intriguing. Canadian pig-farmer-slash-serial-killer Richard 'Hilary Briss' Pickton would feed the bodies of his victims into a wood chipper. Human remains found in the freezer and in the pig feed. Some of his neighbours are feeling somewhat queazy - no reports of nosebleeds yet - at the though of having eaten his 'special stuff' bacon and sausages.

Not much more to report on the daily news front. Biggest thing yesterday was probably the first walkies of Rumpole. Took him a little while to get used to being allowed beyond the confines of home without Sal or me chasing after him in a blind panic. He did some sitting, I did some gentle dragging, he got the hang of what was going on and we went for a walk to and through the local reserve. He walked sort-of-to-heal and his most confused moments were when people didn't stop to coo and ahh over his lovely cuteness. A nice side effect was that he was fairly knackered when we got home and he slept well. He does not doo much of that whimpering and wailing; grown out of that in a week. So all good, and having said that I fully expect him to savage me tonight in some mad cocker rage incident.

Oh yes, and it was my birthday, a fact that I was not at all concerned about. A measure of the life change I have made is that one of my presents - two in fact - were tubs of worms for my compost bin. Pipe and slippers next.