This is so, sooooooooo exciting!

I knew something was up when my dad began tidying his office, and my mum made up the spare room, and Isabel, our femme de ménage—who I really, really like—said she would work an extra hour.

‘Guess who’s coming to see you?’ my dad kept asking, which I thought was a pretty irritating question; how was I supposed to know? Anyway, by last Friday evening I just knew the ‘mystery guest’ was about to arrive and I was so excited I couldn’t eat my supper (which, as my dad remarked—unnecessarily, I thought—‘Well, that’s a first, Josie.’) At 6:30PM my mum said, very casually, ‘Let’s go to the village and see who we might see’—and by now I was fit to burst. So the three of us walked down to the pharmacy, and waited and waited, and guess who we saw?

Nobody, that’s who!

And then my dad said, ‘Well, perhaps they’re not coming after all,’ and insisted we all went home, and I was planning to start a major sulk—when the doorbell rang. ‘Josie, I think that’s for you,’ said my mum, and the front door opened, and I saw a woman, and at first I didn’t recognise her—for about a millionth of a second—and then I did: MUM LAURA!

That’s right! Mum Laura, the wonderful woman who saved my life, had flown all the way from Barbados to see me. Was I excited? Well, you be the judge:

Wow! Can you believe that? What an incredible thing to do! I mean, as I know only too well, Barbados is a very long way away, and you have to travel in a carrier that’s a bit like a cage, and the only sustenance they give you is a bowl of water, and it’s dark and bumpy and very scary. Still, Laura came all that way for me—and she brought her mum (my Grandma Hilary)—and what a time we had for the next two days: cuddles and walks, and more cuddles—lots and lots of them—and, when my dad wasn’t looking, Laura even sneaked me some tasty roast duck to supplement my meagre diet.

Naturally, I took the opportunity to tell Laura what a terrible time I’m having in Provence and to list all of my deprivations: no more biscuit snacks during the day (because, I’m getting a little plump, allegedly); no more roast chicken suppers on a nightly basis (ditto); not allowed on the bed; not allowed to chase kittens, etc, etc.

But Laura just lay down with me and said I was the luckiest puppy in the world. Perhaps I am?