Love Him Love His Dog

As I drove up to The Homestead I caught sight of Jamie, stripped to the waist, wielding a sledgehammer. No builder's cleavage but his Venusian dimples were accentuated by the sunlight. I approached to greet him and could see a beautiful dog tattoo on his shoulder. It is his beloved, now sadly dead, red bullmastiff Honey. I'm not usually one for tats but I love this. He plans to get a bullmastiff puppy soon.

He informed my sister and me about mushroom foraging whilst pulverising the terrace to get to a faulty drain. Then I saw the trench he had dug earlier for the sparky's cable. It was a work of art. He had carefully cut and stacked turfs and gone to work with his spade. The black perpendicular earth shone, hardly a crumb out of place.