The neighbours had packed up all their stuff. They had their truck ready to go; loaded with the fridge and the sofa tied down with that blue hay bale string they always left lying around the place. Interesting people, that lot. Never said much, ‘specially today. Classic farming family in my opinion. All rough and tough. Couldn’t come to grips with their feelings if they ran into them. Always clomping about in their farmer boots and chewing a disgusting piece of hay. Couldn't get any more farmer like if they tried. But that’s what you get for moving in next to a farm I ‘spose. I hadn't much money myself so I couldn't afford much more than my little caravan on this tiny plot next to the paddock. It doesn't take much rent, not many people want to live next to a paddock full of sheep and the odd chicken scratching through the wooly ones. I'd only spoken to one of them. A bloke came knocking on my door not two days ago, asking if I wanted his dogs. Cute little things, very energetic. Working dogs, they were, rounding up the sheep and keeping them pesky chooks in line. Every now and then I'd see that young one chewing on an egg or two. Cheeky bugger. I'd have loved to have those dogs. But I can barely afford to feed myself, let alone those hungry mouths. When I first moved in, I thought the neighbours were pretty alright people, despite their lack of chit-chatting. That all changed the day I saw one of them giving that poor young pup an egg full to of chili paste. Poor dog was whining and searching himself silly for something soothing. Wondered at first, then figured it must be to try and stop him eating the eggs in the first place. It worked for a while, gave him a shock. Didn't last though, next week he'd be back in the coop and crunching right through the shell to get to the gooey stuff inside. That I could've dealt with, had I taken those dogs off the farmer, but that old boy he'd have been a riot. Always rolling in the sheep o