Sixteen years
Today is sixteen years since Alfie was born. It’s his birthday in that respect, but he’s not here to celebrate it with us. Mum says that she hopes wherever he is that he is having steak and ice cream with his brother and sisters and his friend Elvis. We’ve got some wonderful pictures of him up in our new house so he’s always remembered and Mum still thinks about him every day. She has the bronze cast of his paw on the windowsill of the bedroom where she sees it every day too. He’d have liked this house.
Delayed muddy walk
We delayed the muddy walk until today as it was still raining in the afternoon and muddy walks aren’t much good in the dark. Mum can slip over in daylight, so the combination of dark and mud was never going to be a good idea. On the plus side I’m hoping it means that Dad can come too – although he isn’t very keen on mud. What I really have to remember when he comes is that I mustn’t share my mud with him. He really isn’t like a dog and gets particularly annoyed about sharing on that sort of level.
A book to read
I’ve been sent a book to read too. I’ll tell you more about that next week as Mum won’t let me open it until we’ve done our walk. She says that I have to focus on one thing at a time. I just laughed and pointed to her desk. The day she focusses on one thing I’ll put a little flag out. She has so many different piles of paper sitting around.
I’m off to raise a toast to Alfie and remember all he meant to me. He was my mentor and my friend and I miss him.
Love
Wilma