Searching for my lost dog, I found a new neighbour who needed more than just a friendly welcome.
Last Thursday morning my dog went missing. It’s a male Rhodesian ridgeback called Simba and it looks like a small pony. Hard to loose you might think, but once in a while he decides to play at hunting and off to the fields he goes. I did all the usual things; looked around the village, walked up and down calling his name in a high pitched voice to entice him to come running, feeling like a fool. You know the routine. After a while, an old guy who lives at the top of our quiet cul-de-sac told me that he had seen the dog in the back garden of his new neighbour. He didn’t know her name but he thought she was in. I thanked him and went to knock on the door.
The door was opened by a lovely looking woman that I hadn’t seen around the village. She was around thirty, that’s 18 years younger than me, tall and well built without being fat, with long shaggy red hair and bright g...
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