"Alright buddy.." I coo to Mal, setting him in his bed in the kitchen. I open the cupboard above the fridge and reach in for a first aid kit. I return to Mal and I pull out a line of soft, white bandage then I set about gently wrapping it around the wound on his leg. It wasn't as bad as it was at the park, it wasn't bleeding too much any more...I think the poor dog was more shocked than anything. I plant a small kiss on the dog's head and cover him completely in a blanket. That always seemed to calm him when he got anxious. My gaze again returned to Jasper who was waiting patiently with my guitar "thank you...uh - this way". I lead him out of the kitchen, up the stairs and to the farthest room on the landing, opening the door and letting him walk in before me. "Yeah...my room" I say. I have to admit, it was tidier than usual. It didn't look like a clothes hurricane had ripped through it, the only thing I wish I had done was made my bed. I specifically got a double bed so that my pup could sleep next to me without taking up too much room. My other three guitars were hanging on the wall from guitar wall mounts and there were odd posters dotted around my blue walls. I set my pocket knife down on my nightstand, in front of a picture of a 12 year old me with my father just before he set out on his final mission. "Make yourself at home" I say whilst walking over to my chest of draws, my intention on finding a clean shirt.



















