A Fur Stole

A fur Stole The big dog that was run down on the main road, five month ago and thrown into the grass verge, is still there only now it looks like a dusty stole flung out of a passing Rolls Royce… I wonder if its owner, if it had any, is still looking for it? When my Bambi died I didn’t cry, not the first day, but on the second day when the pain of her absence became too much to bear. She won our battles of will, but one, insisted she had to have a bath fortnightly. We grew old and grouchy together. And now she is a sweet memory