Sophie was besotted. There was no other word for it. She hung on his every word. Smitten, his mum would have said. When he left the room her eyes followed him, and when he re-entered, the room lit up.
Every night, cuddling by the fire: he with his warm, knitted jumpers and she with a blanket, keeping the cold and the rest of the world at bay. When he glanced down at her, she melted.
He reached over, gently stroking her head. “Come on girl, walkies!” Sophie bounced up, and, with her tail wagging excitedly, followed him out into the garden.