She’s not there

I’m walking Bertie today because his owner is back in the Oxford Cancer Centre.  Just a few months after getting the all-clear, she receives the devastating news that her cancer has come back.  

And not just ‘back’ - as in “coo-ee - just popped in for a chat and a cuppa”  -  more like the unwelcome house guest who eats you out of house and home and shows absolutely no sign of leaving.  Which is what's happening.

Bertie must have twigged that something’s up.  The constant stream of visitors - friends and family - and the sudden trips in the car to more distant family - signal a change in his routine. 

He keeps stopping as we walk, looking back.  I give him a few extra treats by way of encouragement and we get about half-way round the Common, before we both decide to call it a day. 
 
Back in the house he ignores me and heads straight back to his blanket on the sofa.  As if to say “you can go now.  I get the idea”.