A New Chapter

I felt a twang of sadness as I drove away from the makeshift shepherd’s hut that has been our home for the last twenty-five months, car loaded with our essential belongings, pots and pans and cutlery rattling, black bags bursting with clothes and bedding crammed into the backseat, mattress strapped to the roof and two big, hairy dogs panting happily in the boot. They’re always happy when they’re going somewhere, those two. There were three dogs when we came here. My old faithful, gentle boy, Pippin, breathed his last on the hill. He’d already held on long enough to move with us. Longer than he should have. His breath had stopped once already, some months before. I’d watched his tongue turn blue and the light leave his eyes and for a moment he was gone, and I’d pulled him back with the caress of my hands stroking his soft, white brow and my voice, good boy, Pippin, it’s okay, sweet boy. His wretched body relaxed under my hands and his breath came back, and his blood flowed again and th…