Alfred was watching the smoke raise from his cooking. Surrounded by sand. He stood tall on his two legs, both paws deeply accustomed to the soft sand and the sea air that gave his small fire oxygen. His nose twitched. Food was always welcome and not always predictable. He was no seer. And he did bless(in his own fashion) the creature now cremating nicely on his barbecue.
There were those who might find his behaviour odd. Alsatians didn’t cook he heard when he chose to listen to gossip. But he did cook, with very little help from what remained of his original front paws, damaged in an incident he never mentioned. Why listen to those who had not the knowledge? He listened to other things, Through silence.
His nose twitched again and he gazed over the smoke and after a time saw a strange hat attached to a human with odd eyes. She smelt like something he used to know. One of her eyes was watching him. So he watched her back, over the smoke, smelling her all the time.
”Do you have onions? ” An ordinary question. Not her. But a boy. With a silent dog who looked less fascinated by the fire. ”You visited me this morning, before breakfast.”
