The Ball


This is a post for believers. People who have an open mind. Who understand that there is more that we cannot see than what we do see. That ‘Life’ shows us every day, but most fear it. There is nothing to be afraid of.

Our beautiful boy Harley used to love these balls. Made of soft latex, he would stand stock still, with one in his mouth and just happily squeak it for ages. It will be a year next week when we lost him. I still miss him every day.

Harley

As part of our renovation we have been moving a lot of furniture. Because of our love of Harley when we moved the sofa there were about fifteen balls under it, along with many other toys. The girls were having a field day.

Now Elfie remembers Harley, and she remembered this ball. She was so happy that it still had it’s squeaker intact and picked it up and took it outside in the garden to play with. But when we all came in she left it in the garden.

RD and I were caught up with renovating, all the girls were in with us, doors closed, when the ball started to squeak. Not just squeak, but squeak In exactly the way Harley would squeak it..eoo, eoo, eoo, eoo. On and on it went. Rich was chatting to me, and I said ‘shush, can you hear that?’ We both stopped and listened, there it was, clear as day. Eoo, eoo, eoo.

Rich looked at me, I looked at him. Elfie went to the door, tail wagging. I opened the door, there was the ball, on the drive, nothing near it. I shut the door, eoo, eoo, eoo.

‘Hello my darling‘ I said. ‘You love us don’t you?’

Love never dies.

Rosie

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