Guarding me with her life.

As I type, I can see through the doorway into the lounge room, where Sahara lays on her mat and watches me. And watches me. And keeps watching me. No matter where I go in the house, she will follow, just to watch me - but no so much as when I am typing.

No matter how quietly I turn my head to look at her, even when I think she is fast asleep, her tail is already wagging.

It is nice to be loved.