His name was Alfie.
Quite a character.
Alf ya bastard I’d heard folks curse him.
Short wiry with goatee beard.
Beautiful eyes, black lined just like a Pharos.
He would look sideways at most folk and animals with contempt like suspicion.
He came into my life quite unexpectedly with all the chaos and unpredictability of a hurricane.
He had been living in Manchester with a scruffy old guy who had reached the end of his tether and decided enough is enough.
I’m too old to put up with such an unruly bad mannered rebel of a lodger
I can’t cope with him he sighed.
I’ve warned him time and time again.
He was fighting in the street again last night.
Last week he didn’t come home for three days.
Out chasing another lass.
The blonde woman from the chip shop came shouting the odds.
Her girl is pregnant
She’s not best pleased I know he’s only young but I can’t see him changing.
A tear ran down his face.
He’s just got to go he has to move out.
And so that’s how it happened young rebel Alfie moved in with me.
Everything the old man described and more.
Fighting, running away
I’d lie awake and worry.
The sun would rise and I’d open the curtains there he would be.
Bold as brass.
Lying on the lawn
Not a care in the world.
I’d open the door.
Where have you been?
He would look at me with those big eyes
I could never stay mad for long
He was brilliant with my kids.
I knew he would protect them with his life.
They all grew up together.
The years rolled by
We were now inseparable.
He traveled everywhere with me. I couldn’t trust him to stay anywhere else whilst I was away
Scotland, London. Cornwall.
My children grew up left home.
Alf and I settled in Wales.
We loved the mountains and valleys spend lots of time exploring.
Twenty years had passed.
Alfie my rebel best friend.
He loved our canal side cottage.
That’s where he ended his days
I thought my heart would break.
Alfie, you taught me patience tolerance and unconditional love.
My little patter dale terrier.
You made paw prints on my heart.
That will never fade