He’d never seen horses so relaxed or children so happy. Out of the corner of her eye, beyond the Shetland ponies and the famous ex-racehorses who were lining up for the personality parade, she could see a pack of reporters hovering. She can easily take two or three of yours. “Daddy, Daddy,” she squealed in delight, running to wards him, “Daddy home,” then seeing blood on his face “Daddy got a hurt.
“He keeps talking about a sailor. “I’m sorry, boy,-1 know how you feel. He’s been scratched, has he? Change it to Sam the Spy then, but only a tenner each way. The vet drove Tory home, and dug a grave for Wolf beside Sailor and various of the children’s guinea pigs and hamsters, and buried him in his blanket with his old shoe.
Join the newsletter to receive news, updates, new products and freebies in your inbox.