“Look,” said Mary, “Sasha has come out to greet you. She’s so happy to see you!”

Mum and I had just got out of the car and we were trying to mind the mud. We had come to visit my sister who was farm-sitting down at Rosie’s farm. Sasha reached up her paws on my leg and left muddy marks on my trousers – too late to worry about mud – and I lifted her, like a baby, from under her tiny forelegs and brought her against my chest for a kiss and cuddle. Malachi, who also was part of the welcoming committee, rubbed against our legs and hit our knees with the happy wagging of her tail.

Once inside the farmhouse kitchen I avoided looking at the spot, in the shadows under the side table, where Jas used to lie on her favourite mattress.

“Malachi lies with Sasha now,” Mary informed.

Upon hearing her name, Malachi stood between the two chairs opposite me at the table, where Mum and Mary were sitting, and they petted her.

“Is it alright to let her have part of my hot cross bun?” Mum asked.

We laughed – she had already let Malachi have the last of it.

“Rosie left me this book to read,” began Mary as she lifted a book from the table, “written by Ben Fogle. It’s called ‘Labrador'”.

My sister read aloud the short introduction to the book and finished in a stream of tears; my eyes were pricked and I don’t know about Mum – we were both silent. In a moment the familiar glossy black coat of Malachi was pressing against me, her tail wagged at my touch and her head found its way under my hand. Dear Malachi, dear Jas.

Here are some photos taken at the end of last August when we four girls picked up apples in the orchard at Larkbeare…