I have been sprawling on the sofa this evening, watching New Tricks, which I really enjoy. James Bolam - remember The Likely Lads? God, that makes me feel old, I believe he is about 70!
Along the back of the sofa lay Billy, his head hanging down, under my chin, his cold wet nose up close and personal. His fur is so sensual, soft and silk velvety, his floppy ears so wonderful to stroke. He makes the most wonderful noises, a sort of grunty snort of sheer pleasure. His eyes on a level with mine, they are suffused with love. I just adore this dog, the bond with him is total - the result of breeding a dog and knowing that he is yours unreservedly. Maud snuggled up at my side, a weather eye fixed on Billy, jealousy in every bone of her body. From time to time. her lips curled back in a silent snarl as she thought he was getting too close to me. She expects Billy to know his place, Billy pushes the boundaries, and I think it is hysterically funny, until Maud gets nasty, and Billy draws back, a wounded look on his face.
These dogs are my life - the companionship they offer is so rewarding. When Violet died, I thought nothing would heal the pain and sense of loss, but these dear dogs have filled the void, and how I love them. A little triumvirate - we face the world together, and let noone part us asunder.
20 hours ago