Jaye Marie and Anita Dawes

The small dog is home from her travels and both she and I were most touched by ‘her’ emails and the messages left by those who had worried that her departure was of a more permanent nature. She had bounded off a day early this time, without so much as a backward glance, for the three mile walk to her friends’ home for the weekend. She returned after yet another three mile walk  on the way home… immediately found her ball and began the demands to play, eat and not have her ears done, thank you very much.

Within an hour, she was snuggled in her bed and snoring fit to burst. By this time, the nice, clean floor was spattered with mud, coated in hair and covered in tennis balls. The birds had been evicted from the lawn and the hole through the gale-damaged fence discovered and essayed. It…