Man's best friend

Every day around 7 in the evening I go out to collect the dogs' bowls to feed them. They know why I go out, of course, and immediately the door is opened, there they are, all three of them, wagging their tails, full of life, putting their noses up to be touched, making little noises. I talk to them, pat and stroke them, tell them what fine, lovely dogs they are (they're just mongrels, really.) After we have greeted each other, the female and one of the others start playing with each other, boxing, biting, jumping upon one another. They always do this in front of my feet.

When Rose and I sit outside in the front porch in the evening with a drink, the dogs come round and each in their own way come to show their devotion and seek loving touches in return.

My dogs' simple and unaffected love often brings tears to my eyes. I love them so much.