The young dog disappears, last seen chasing deer along the top
field, my first experience of her runaway nature. I call her name, use all the
commend words I know, call, call, train the binoculars on every horizon. Now sleeping,
a scratched nose hints at a route through the woody undergrowth, ditch mud leaves
light halos on her coat –suspicions of an interesting journey.
No comments:
Post a Comment