An Addition to the family?

This one is for Shelagh. My sister in law in Vermont.

We were walking along the beach one morning last week – a grey drizzly day with nil visibility but no wind. The tide was in, so trudging along the sand was hard work which makes Himself grumpy. He’d hoped to get out of walking part of the way but his plans were waylaid.

Himself in a Sulk is something to see, though to be fair it never lasts long. He has too much of a sense of humour for that.

We walked in silence, watching Mollie’s antics in and out of the surf, chasing other dogs, losing her ball, letting it dribble into the sea before dashing to retrieve it.

It’s better not to talk first thing in the morning. Himself is not at his best, and my head’s always full of things that whirr round like a little engine.

Then he said, “I think our next dog should be called Busby.”

“What?” I said. Let’s face it, in a small one bedroom flat there is not a lot of room for one dog let alone two. And of course, there’s the terrible Buster. Had Himself gone bonkers? Or did Moll have some terrible disease that I didn’t know about? Was she about to die? Oh no…..

“Busby,” Himself repeated, happily unaware of the turmoil in his wife’s brain.

I decided to humour him. Safest when people are bonkers. “Why Busby?”

“I was listening to something on the news and Dominic Busby was mentioned. I thought that would be a good name for a dog.”

“So we’re talking hypothetical here?”

“Of course, Pop! Why would we want another dog?”

I came down to earth then. I’d already got quite fond of the hypothetical Busby, could see him and Moll racing across the beach together. Silly me.