Ollie

My bestie’s rescue dog, from a dog orphanage in Romania. He has come along so well since the first time I saw home, but while we were visiting my friend (her mum) in her dementia car home he ate a whole letter that was delivered in our absence. Only one corner of the evidence left behind with no way of identifying its origins. Apparently in the orphanage paper and cardboard scraps was Ollies diet, and it’s the one habit that they can’t seem to break him of. Much like the neglected children we both used to foster, unable to know when their tummies were full, and who would eat absolutely everything ‘just in case there was not another meal for a long time’.

It is a while since I’ve seen Sandra and although she said she knew me, I think it was because she was expected to, and the chocolates that I had taken, and she fell upon with gusto helped! What a cruel illness this is. My grandfather and mother in law were both sufferers, but to see my friend, only a few years older than me so severely affected is heart wrenching.

At work, the Head of Marketing has agreed we need to run the story writing competition again next year, but this is a double edged sword because she thinks it’s educational and therefore I am to lead on it! Then she confessed that there was a lot of work involved in the collating and recording of the stories. I hope Stalker is up to it, haha!