PUPPY LOVE

The old dog sleeps close by the bed now. She’s showing signs of the irregular rhythm and failing heart that two years ago killed her litter sister, her friend, her rival, our good companion. The gentle snoring is more reassurance than disturbance; she is still here.

The new puppy is 18 months, and has grown into quite a long-legged beauty. There is a little bit of one ear missing. Ask the old dog.


When allowed, and sometimes when not, the pup is quick up on the bed. She doesn’t just lie on the bed, she doesn’t just lie next to you on the bed, she finds your body contour and morphs into the missing jigsaw piece with a pressing commitment to closeness that only those who know about these things will understand.

Don’t know? Don’t ask.