Linda Flynn
Salty Dog
There was a thud and a flurry of fur. A book was flung from
side to side, its flailing pages feeling the full force of hurricane Rosie.
Mangled tissues were thrown in the air, flew up and fell
like spume.
The eye of the storm sought new targets, a chewed table
leg, a scratched rug and a mud splattered sofa.
The rudder tail wagged her with delight, as she steered
towards me and stole my shoes.
I circled my arms around her body which was as soft as
thistledown. With a shuddering sigh she snuggled on to my lap and closed her
eyes. Rosie, my perfect puppy.
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