Yet this was not just a fete in the quirky folklore of rural France. On this occasion, St Priest, a village of 250 souls, would be hosting some exceptional guests. The highlight of the day would be when they gathered on the square in front of St Priest church for the Benediction.
And not just any benediction. Today would see the divine blessing of the Spanish greyhounds. The moment when God and dog would be as one.
For, Lord knows, if there is any animal deserving of divine help, it is the galgo.
Halfway in size between greyhound and whippet, these dogs are bred for hunting in southern Spain, where tradition demands they be punished by slow death if they fail to work well and thus humiliate the owner.
"They are the gentlest, sweetest, most loyal dogs of all," said Francoise Blanche, caressing the silken ears of her galgo, Haka.
"They are literally tortured to death. The hunters drag them behind cars, slice their limbs, throw them into pits or hang them by the neck so that their paws just touch the ground and they slowly suffocate. It is an outrage, a scandal."
Galgo owners in France from far and wide hearkened to the call of l'Europe des Levriers (Europe of the Greyhounds), the organisers of the Blessing.
A charity run from a home near Paris, the association supports Spanish volunteers who rescue galgos, nurse them back to health and bring them to safety in France, where they are put up for adoption.
The galgos' suffering is becoming a campaign issue in Spain, but its powerful hunting lobby has defeated every attempt to end the cruelty, said the association's head, Beatrice Monnet.
"My dog had been burned all over by the hunters. She was at death's door," said Blanche. "I saw her on an internet site and I was moved to tears. I thought, she's black and white, and she's a fighter, I like rugby, so I decided to call her Haka."
The 12.30 blessing began promptly at 2pm in the rolling hills of the Allier when Father Benoit de Masgontier arrived.
Clad in gleaming white robes and grey sandals, the priest apologised for his lateness, explaining he had been detained by a "rush of baptisms".
Priests are rare things in the French countryside today. They have to run several parishes, and Sunday is their busiest day as they race from one Mass to the next.
Father de Masgontier, though, knows his congregation better than most. A priest in his late 40s, he is a local man and a former farmer.
"Ten years ago I gave up cattle-raising to follow the call," he said. "I heard it at the age of 11, yet I ignored it for decades."
The blessing of pets is acceptable under church doctrine, and is associated with St Anthony, he said. "But the important point is that the blessing is a joint one - it applies to the pet and its owner. So if you sell or get rid of the pet, the blessing that you get is no longer valid."
Several dozen hounds, some of them bearing scars from their past life, stood patiently as Father de Masgontier read from the Book of Genesis and chose a benediction from the Book of Blessings.
"The Lord made all living things," he declared. "The Lord smiles on all his Creation."
Dipping a brass sceptre into a silver vase of holy water, the priest sprayed pets and owners alike. The solemnity ended with laughter when a bearded local man, dressed curiously in a Wild West sheriff's outfit, complained that the water had caused his dachshund to cock his leg and urinate on his trousers.
By now, everyone was hungry. Dogs and humans headed to the feast. The trestle tables groaned with good things.
Village girls scuttled back and forth with wine and bread and knives and forks, and bowls for the animals. On the stage, a guitarist, a singer and a storyteller told children the tale of Sultan, the brave galgo who had defied death. Night would come, and this day would pass, but for now, the moment was for the dogs.
Disclosure: Catherine Field is the owner of a female galgo, adopted in France after being abandoned in Andalucia, Spain, a year ago.
