Diary of an Adventure

Polly

I don’t speak ‘Border Collie’. The trust, in those fathomless dark brown eyes. Pleading for understanding. The gentle pressure of a foot. 

Gentle soul. Socks on elbows. Her last night. Every hour. Giving everything she had. Wagging tail. Sparkling eyes. Asking for understanding. Her shadow in the studio. Midnight walk, to visit her water bowl. Last cuddle on Afghan carpets of timeless compassion. Infinite sadness of the last breath. It’s time. Breaking our hearts. The clock, strikes a new hour. Time. Life. Moves onwards. Memories. Now reality. 

Thank you Polly for your life. 

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