I look. He’s going to the cupboard. I can hear the jangle. Is it for me? Is it for my sister? Venus runs up and puts her head in it. I still twist my body as I’m so happy. When I was small I wouldn’t stop moving so he couldn’t put it on my neck. Then we’re off. Down the steep bit. I mustn’t pull. I want to. Now through the swinging squeaky thing. I used to hear Venus howling inside but she doesn’t any more. Down the lane or track we go. Once we ran by ourselves. We met other dogs and chased them over the field, up the track and through an open door and into someone’s kitchen. She stood still. Her eyes were big and round. Her face was white. There was a lot of noise. Now we don’t. I used to be scared of those big things that go past, whoosh. Venus used to run after the small things with two round bits that go put, put, put. I could hear them coming. She can’t very well so she used my ears a bit. I watch for small dogs or cats. I’m the boss. I see one. I start to run after it. Then I feel a tug on my neck.