Archive for February 2020




Sammy

Fictive Dream

by Sarah Leavesley

I shouldn’t have let him off the lead. It’s obvious once Sammy’s gone, but I’m only 13 and not thinking clearly.

For a small dog, Sammy is determined. Or ‘determinded’ as Nan used to say. ‘Like you, Claire,’ she would add, with a wink. Would. Used to.

A West Highland terrier, Sammy is a muddy cloud with legs: soft to stroke but with a bark to rival thunder. A bit like Nan—scolding me for lateness or spilling the gravy, then enveloping me in her warm arms or tucking my recalcitrant curls behind my ears so she could kiss my cheek.

Walking’s my natural escape, and my spontaneous reaction to pain. When Mom told me Nan was gone, I grabbed Sammy’s lead, headed straight down the path and out of the gate.

Before I was past next door’s garden, I was running. I didn’t hear Sammy’s yapping, only…

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