“Lily, my dear lassie, I once had a dog. He was my best friend and companion. I had him before I knew your Grandma.
Saved him from the hands of savage boys who were pulling him around by his broken tail. I grabbed the yelling, tiny pup and ran away. I always safed animals in distress. My Mum said nothing, only helped fix its tail and I gave it some milk.”
Grandpa stopped for a minute or two. Lily could not wait to hear the rest of the story.
“What did you call it Grandpa?”
“Wait Lil, I’ll get there,” Grandpa looked lovingly at the stone dog, continued:
“One day when I went fishing I fell and sprained my ankle. The pup, then nearly one year old, ran home and fetched Mum.
The best part was when he brought Grandma and me together. Grandma and some friends were playing in the garden when a car bashed through the hedge.
Hero and I were passing. He charged, grabbed Grandma and pulled her out of danger.
Now Hero’s spirit guards the back garden and we can always remember him” Grandpa wiped away a tear.