Wednesday, 3 January 2018

Hurricane Rosie

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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