A smile, recognised

“That’s a grand smile” siad Milly this afternoon, as I meandered back from a short bike ride.

“How’s that?” I asked of her, as she lay, semi-curled, in her armchair.

“Well” she said, “A treat first, then I’ll explain.”

OK, I think quietly, and go to her silver bin, remove the wooden lid, and find her a special Thornam Deli biscuit.

Bag rustles, accompanied by the soundless Milly gliding from chair to by my feet.

“Sit. Touch. Paw. Other Paw. Wait.” which she does obediently yet quickly, eyes never wavering from my hand.

Taking the biscuit I offer, she eats it down quickly, then looks longingly, as if the treat had not happened.

“Milly, we have a deal.”

“Ok, I know. Another treat , though? Its worth your while.”

Flicking a mini biscuit her way, she catches with customary front feet off the ground, and smiles, knowingly.

“Well?” I ask, as she mooches back to her armchair. “You remarked on my smile. Can you explain?”

With a little wiggle, a curl, then a look up from her comfort, Milly begins.

“Your smile is new, over the past few weeks. That’s what I saw again today.”

I’ve forgotten how perceptive you are, and how well you know me – I think to myself.

“Continue, please Milly. What have you been seeing?”

“I heard you mention to Coach that you no longer had an axe to grind. A few weeks ago?”

“Yes, I recall that coaching session.”

“It seems that your smile has a rounded warmth now, no longer any sharp corners or edges. That’s what I saw again today, as if you had been enjoying yourself fully instead of spending time grinding axes needlessly.”

I get another treat for Milly, offering it to her as I tell her “You’re rather special.”

She takes her treat, knowingly looking up to me.

“Yes. I am. For you.”