Waiting?

I walked to the village shop this morning, which is now our Post Office as well, to post a ‘onesie’. This is the second one I have ordered that has had to go back, the body I think was made for someone about seven feet tall as once on, when I put my hands in the pockets, they were level with my knees. Now I know I am not tall, but I am not that short either.

On my way home I saw this stone dog outside our local garden centre; he is still looking festive in his hat and scarf. After I arrived home I realised that it would have been better taken from the other side, but this view shows a reflection in the garden centre window of the local bakery which is opposite; maybe he is waiting for a cake.


PS - I wonder why I assumed that it was a he.