Coming home

The morning we left Kenya was a sad one. I almost cried as we drove away from the beautiful mansion, already missing it.

The plane rides back to Norway were exhausting. I was so tired when we finally stumbled through the door to our house; I had all but forgotten my dog. He was sitting there, waiting for us at the entrance. His tail wagged like Calibri wings, and he greeted us with happy barks. I laughed.

I had forgotten him, left in the care of our grandparents, but I was sure he hadn’t forgotten us. He never does when we leave for holidays.

I managed to catch him in an embrace and hugged him tight. I kissed him in the fur many times, and whispered into the soft cushions of his body that I finally was home.

I was home… 

Here's a picture of my adorable dog, because you deserve it!