Extract

From Chapter 1

'Connor the Collie tells us five minutes before the fit starts. He runs up and nudges us, goes back to Bailey, stares, comes back, nudges and repeats till we do something.

 Anyway, one crazy day I had Bailey by his handool in his post-ictal running stage. He dragged me across the living room and started running up the wall. I had to press into his back to keep him from falling. That pressure allowed him to run onto the ceiling. Every time I look at them paw prints it reminds me what I was like. We kept them for people who don’t believe us.

 There’s something about Connie and animals. I couldn’t fathom it at first. But I do now. And strange things have come to pass when a selfish bastard like me ends looking after animals. Giving out love for no return and getting love because of that. I’ve had a sort of revolution; all cause of an epileptic Lurcher.

 Here’s the routine of a typical morning:

 -Oof, says Bailey, at half-eight, -Oof!

 I wake and get him and Connor out the padded room.

 -Get the Mummy, get the Mummy, I say.

 They skate and skid along that wooden floor bounding onto the bed, gowlering for attention. I go for a pee and head downstairs. I still put a plate out for Floyd.

 -One for Bailey, one for the wee coosy pat Fluffy. One for the Connoroo, I say.

 Kettle on. Four slices of Carrot for Bailey. Four dog biscuits for Connor. Soon as he hears the coffee cup Bailey picks his nervous way down the spiral staircase. I pour milk in his bowl, Connors and my cup.

-Drinky link, I say, -Drinky link. '