Annie

Every day she would sit by the gate waiting for the bus
We could see her from our kitchen window
There beside her sat Bobby our dopey corgi
She would sit and talk to him, pat, poke and prod him
Still he sat there all patient
Like he kinda knew of her disability
It was a little ritual for them both, it would make us smile
She would chat to him about this and that and god knows what
He would sit and listen curled up at her feet
Not bad for a stubborn Corgi that would rather bury pastry and loafs of bread in dads garden
Then the special bus would come by and pick her up
That dog would then disappear, god knows where
But he'd be there the next day.....waiting