The whispers in the wind ruffled the fur of the quiet dog sitting on the front porch of his late owner’s house. The sun had begin to come up behind the light grey winter clouds, but he kept his head low on his front paws, wondering what he was to do with his life now that his Sami was gone.

The house had been empty of humans the last couple of days. Someone passed by yesterday, maybe, to put some food in his bowl and water, but really there was no need. He was not going to eat them anyway.

A white and black nosy pigeon creeped along the ledge of the perch, like it did every morning to check on the news of the house. He lifted his eyes slightly to watch it hop across the white wooden floor, but couldn’t be bothered to move any further. It stared at him, found him to be harmless, and then began to eat any crumbs he could find across the porch.

Sami loved to eat chips with his beer outside at night. The bird must be eating what remained of those crispy potatoes he liked. A whimper edged through his large dark brown body, a body that birds used to fear while he crossed the lawn for his morning run. But he couldn’t be bothered by that anymore.

The wind whispered once again. His ears twitched because he felt like he heard his name being called again. “Mannie! Come on boy. We need to go.”

A sudden hope involuntarily moved his tail slightly back and forth.

He heard the sound again, “Mannie!” It seemed to be coming across the front yard, past the yellow rose bushes where he often hid his treats. He shook off his endless tiredness and move towards the sound that seemed to be echoing further away.

The wind drew him to the road leading away from the house, towards the distant green hills. Maybe Sami was not gone at all. Maybe he was waiting for him, where the wind whispered. Wagging his tail excitedly, Mannie followed.