But I have something to tell you. Something exciting. It is about my new friend: Mia McCann.
She is a Yorkshire terrier.
And she is very pretty!
Mia is Andy’s dog and Andy visits Phoebe quite often … and, the rest of the time, Phoebe visits Andy and, sometimes, when Andy comes to our house, he brings Mia.
I like it when Mia comes to visit. We run up and down, around, the house sniffing. We gambol in the garden, with our tongues hanging out, panting. We drink out of the same water bowl and stare through the glass doors waiting.
We are like peas and carrots, Mia and I, jelly and ice cream.
Yesterday, Liz told me some very good news – she said Mia is going to become part of the family. I wasn’t sure what she meant at first. Was she moving in? Was I moving out? Was it going to be one of those weekend access kind-of-things?
But now, I have it all sorted.
You see, I love Mia, and Mia loves Andy, and Andy loves Phoebe and he … has asked her to marry him.
Yes, that’s right.
Phoebe has a ring on her finger and a smile on her face. She is like a rose in spring, a wattle in winter, the soft red tipped new growth on a gum tree.
She is engaged.
This means Liz will be Andy’s mother-in-law and Andrew will be Andy’s father-in-law. It means Jack, Seth and Priya will get a new brother-in-law and, of course, Ness will still be the best daughter-in-law. But, most of all, it means Mia and I will be related.
It is, of course, a little sad because when Phoebe gets married she won’t live here anymore. She will live with Andy. When she gets up in the morning she will have coffee with Andy. When she goes for a walk it will be with Andy. When she goes home … it will be with Andy.
Liz says it’s ok, that she will visit … sometimes, that when she comes to visit, she will bring Mia. Sometimes they will stay for lunch. Then Mia and I will race up and down the house with our paws skidding on the wooden floorboards. We will go in and out in and out of the back door, not sure whether to run in the garden or to stay with the family. We will tussle over toys and stand by the laundry cupboard begging for treats.
We are like peaches and cream, Mia and I, brandy and pudding.
She is the soft centre in my Cadbury Roses, and the liquorice in my all-sorts. She is my meat, dry biscuits and my marrow-bone-jelly. She is eyes and ears and a furry tummy. I think about her all day, every and throughout the day. I couldn’t stop, even if I tried.
I think it’s love actually.