About this time sixteen years ago we were sorting out sleeping arrangements.
I had a duvet and pillows on the floor in the lounge, Hubby had the bed.
The nameless Puppy was tucked up in a drawer pilfered from the chest in the spare room, the bedding being one of Hubby’s old jumpers.
I woke up around 2am to feel a warm furball snuggled against me, so I got up and took her out for a wee. She performed immediately, and we went back to bed, me tucking her back in the jumper and she was soon fast asleep.
Next morning she was again snuggled close, so another visit to the garden, wee and a poo this time, and we had breakfast.
The farm had given us some kibble so we had some food for her, but that was about it as we’d kept nothing after Barney died, other than…
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