It was quiet, too quiet. For the first time in almost eight years, there was no bouncing mass of fur when I came home from work. No grinning muzzle, no tail wagging so hard that it wagged the dog too. For a split second, cold fear had me by the throat… then I heard her snores and breathed again.
Curled up on the sofa, her head on a cushion, the small dog was smiling in her sleep. So deep was her slumber that I watched her for several minutes before she awoke… alerted, not by my presence, but by the scent of chicken emanating from my handbag. You could see the twitch of her nose carrying the prospect of treats to her brain as she struggled to focus drowsy eyes.
She didn’t even attempt to leave the sofa, but caught my arm with her paw as I reached out to…
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