Lucy lived a mile outside town, in an old two-bedroom cottage, twenty minutes’ drive from work and fifteen minutes’ walk from the town. She moved in with her scruffy terrier Milo and settled in quickly. She bought Milo a dog house for the back garden, giving him the freedom to run around while she was at work and the security of his house for bad weather or shelter from the sun.

Lucy felt guilty leaving Milo while she was working; she loved his company. She worried about him being alone all day. They’d have dinner together in the evening and once Lucy finished washing her dishes Milo would dance on his back paws trying his best to get his lead down from the hook at the back door.

Walking together around the park Lucy marvelled at how people would say hello to Milo, addressing him as “Boy.” “Hello boy” they would say, or “How’s my boy today?”  Was this just something the town folk said? she wondered.

One wet evening, she met a tall man rushing, pushing his daughter in her buggy. He shouted hello to Lucy and then, smiling down at Milo commented, “Well don’t you love all weathers, rain, hail, sunshine or snow, boy!” Lucy recognised him as the local butcher, but thought, what a weird thing to say to a dog.

Lucy didn’t know Milo led a secret life while she was at work. Soon after they moved in Milo discovered a cat flap on the back gate. He would squeeze through it to meet two local boys, Philip and Jack, on their way to school, Milo happily walked them both to school every day and the boys loved his company.

Then he’d trot over to the butchers, where Mr. Balding always had a bone ready for him. Milo would bark, take the bone with a wagging tail and head to Mrs Jennings house. Mrs Jennings would have her breakfast chatting away to Milo. He’d sit on the floor beside her, chewing his bone. Before lunch he would bark for her to let him back out. “Not staying for lunch today boy,” she’d laugh as she opened the door and away, he’d run.

Old Tim would open the door when lunch was ready and he’d count loudly “three, two, one…and just as he’d finish Milo would come up the garden path. “Lunch is ready Boy,” he’d announce and Milo would go and sit beside the old man’s chair waiting for him to sit and give him his neck scratch. “Time to eat now Boy,” and as Tim ate and chatted away, Milo enjoyed his piece of chicken. The one-sided conversation continued until Tim had cleaned up.  Milo then barked at the front door to make his leave. “Same time tomorrow boy,” Tim would say.

Milo walked along the street to the new café “Diamond in the Woof”; it was only open a week or two. He enjoyed a drink there and a rest before wrapping up his daily chores. “Hello boy, your bed awaits you,” called the owner Amy with a smile and Milo would go straight to the cushion to rest while Amy filled a fresh bowl of water and placed it beside him. She’d offer him a dog biscuit which he took with no persuasion needed. “Still not ready to bring your owner then, we don’t bite you know,” she laughed as she continued her duties.

Hearing the bell ring indicating that school was over Milo would jump from his cushion, leave the café and run to the school gates to meet the boys. They played with him all the way home. They parted ways with a big rub down at Philip and Jack’s gate and Milo wandered home, squeezing back through the cat flap and relaxing in his house until he heard the engine of Lucy’s car return.

It was three months later before Lucy learned of the dog café on her social media. She decided to bring Milo and what a shock was in store for her when she realised Milo was a regular visitor. As she was chatting to Amy, the boys walked by and Milo ran to greet them. “Milo, have you been sneaking out?” she asked as she realised Milo had been going on his own little adventures while she was at work, making friends and now he was making Lucy friends too. In the course of the day as people greeted Milo with “Boy” she stopped to chat and told them his name.

The following week Lucy took a day off work and joined Milo on his adventures, piecing together his daily routine. It was a pleasure for Lucy to see how her scruffy little dog had introduced himself to so many. Lucy made her acquaintance with them all and it was clear to her they would become her friends too.

That evening, as Lucy and Milo curled up on the couch together, she reflected on how much joy Milo had brought into her life and seemingly the lives of others. “It’s a dog’s life, Milo,” she said rubbing his scruffy ears, Milo groaned softly and they both knew that together, they had everything they needed, new friends, adventures and love in their new home.

Jacqui Wiley