Yesterdays meeting with Cleo
Buster the black Labrador layed his rubber throwing stick at my feet, gave me one quick look with his cunning eyes and bounded homeward, disappearing without one backward glance before he turned into Albert street. I made my way up the last fifty yards of Vally Road at a steady pace with my gut-feelings rattling about inside my stomach. Poking my head round the corner I proved my intuition to be correct. For their was Cleo the doe eyed Golden Retriever, the apple of Buster's loins! Just as Mrs... Sign in to see full entry.