HOME IS WHERE ‘WE’ ARE

Our furry family member continues to humble us with her loyalty. She, like the character of Cashew in my story, found a home in the small Portuguese village, and has only recently helped us make a new home in town.  During these summer months there have been a couple of occasions on which she, ‘my husband and I’ (I can’t help but hear the voice of our now departed Queen Elizabeth II when I use this phrase) have stopped at the Gastro Pub which shares a Praça with the building in which we live, and while we’ve sipped something cool, our dog has sat in the shade until boredom has set in or the call of home is heard by her ears if not ours.

It is then that time she’s trotted happily across the street to the porch of our converted town house, where she’s signalled to us that we should ALL do the same.

Today though she surprised us when instead of hinting strongly of her wishes, she lay down contentedly in the porchway, eyes fixed on us, but confident of her place within the neighbourhood.

It is this loyalty, friendship, love and dynamic that I have tried to portray between the characters of Jennifer and her dog Cashew in my story.

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