Inebriated, not with alcohol, but excitement, I stepped inside Battersea. Sounds of hope were the first thing I heard. As I walked by each poor animal it was like they were begging me to take them home.

No good with cats, or children, one sign said. All I saw was a dog wishing for a happy home. A home I could give them. My last dog died a few years ago. Now I was in a new flat, a canine friend would bring me joy.

At the last cage I saw him. Black, and white, with flecks of yellow. It was obviously a mongrel, but as he stared at me, there was a connection. I couldn’t explain it, but I knew he was going to be my dog.

Maybe not today, paperwork was the least of my worries. I had to prove my home was a good one. That was only to be expected. I had everything on my side. A big garden, I only worked part time, and I was trustworthy.

‘One day,’ I said, as I left him behind. ‘I will take you home.’

Published by writerravenclaw

I am a fifty something mother of two grown up children, and one beautiful grandchild. I have been married for nearly thirty-four years. My first book was published ten years ago. I wrote my book Sticks and Stones because of my experience of being bullied at school.

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