The life of RILEY
Lily was picking at her breakfast when her husband Andy came back from walking the dog. Poor old Riley went straight to his basket and lay down with a heavy sigh, his greying muzzle resting on his paws.
‘How’s my favourite wife?’ Andy asked, dropping a kiss on Lily’s forehead. ‘And bump, of course.’
Lily smiled. ‘Your wife is fine. The bump is kicking and kept me up all night.’
‘You should try and get some sleep,’ said Andy. ‘After all, it’ll be in short supply in a week or so. OK, see you later.’ He glanced over at the elderly Alsatian. ‘Take good care of them for me, boy.’
Another kiss and he was gone, leaving Lily alone with the dog.
‘Love me, love my dog.’ Wasn’t that how the old song went? Well, Lily and Riley both loved Andy. But loving each other? Not so much.
‘You can’t teach an old dog new tricks.’ That was another doggy saying. Lily suspected Riley just had no interest in accepting her into his life.
He seemed able to read
