Goodbyes

Ears pricked at car door closing in the street, and focussed on the footsteps through the gate she stepped into the hall, unsteady feet they bounded forward, welcome couldn't wait. Two forty pounds of fur, and sixteen legs, four eager snouts and tongues shot through the air her hands held up fruitlessly as she begged, they brought her down, smothered her face and hair. A canine/human ball rolled on the floor propelled by laughter, barks and sudden shrieks of love and longing, bottled up before the time has come to leave, and no-one speaks. Chorus of barking, followed by the whines the front door closing for the final time. R.i.P Angela Miles, passed away today but was allowed home to see her Huskies last week for a couple of hours.