Man’s Best Friend

Sacha found him in the woods. I wanted to get help, but he stopped me.
‘I’m sick,’ he said. ‘I’ve come here to die, like your dog would.’
She nosed at his hand.
‘Let her stay awhile?’ he asked.
I called her away; he would be colder alone.

Francine

Francine, my nanny goat won last year’s National Custard Championship which was judged by Colonel Fiftipee. He recruited her to his regiment as both a mascot and chief of the catering corps. Unfortunately, Francine got peckish and ate the regimental colours. Disgraced, she returned home. She’s in the kitchen at the moment, baking teacakes.