From Winter Winks 221: 'Toby, did you chew my slippers again?'
"Toby, did you chew my slippers again?"
I had never seen a dog look so guilty, although the ragged slipper which dropped from his mouth was rather damning evidence. I picked it up with a sigh - I had lost many a pair of slippers this way - but couldn't find it in me to be angry at the hound.
"Are you hungry?"
His tail set to wagging and I chuckled.
"Come along then."
The house was cold, more noticeable without slippers to keep my feet warm, and once I had filled Toby's bowl in the kitchen I set to filling the fireplace with kindling. After it was lit I pulled up a chair, relaxing as the warmth seeped into my bones. These days I spent most of my time either here or in my study. The rest of the house felt too big, without her there to help fill it.
"Mary was right about you, you know," I told the old hound, who was curled up at his usual spot by my feet. "You were an excellent investment."
Wide, brown eyes looked up at me as if to say, well obviously, and I leant back in my chair with a contented sigh.