If Only

Charlotte Crawford

I watched as she danced around the backyard of our Cornwall home, her golden, honey-brown eyes searching the distance for the lovable fluffy companion she called Winston.

Her petal pink ruffled dress got drenched the deeper she went into, the longer grasses, as the rain that poured out before remained fresh. She looked like a child of the sun in a way. I'd never seen a happier little girl.

He came in behind her, scooping her up in his arms as she screeched, followed by giggling. Her soft, dirty blonde waves bounced in the air as he spun her. "Daddy!" she squealed.

Winston made his appearance again, the dotted Dalmatian only to be found covered in mud. His spots were a little bit more scruffy than last. "Winston!" I groaned at the sight of him. "Oh dear, what did you do?" Her giggles drew my attention away.

The two were in so much trouble that I looked back to her while I caught both their attention. "Mummy, save me!" She squealed as he tickled her.

I couldn't help but laugh at the two of them. He soon surrendered, placing her down as she ran away from his grasp, coming into mine. "Mummy," she whined.

"Daddy's a big meanie, huh?" She shook her head in agreement to my words, at only three years old she was very opinionated.

"Hey, no fair. I was just being silly." He scooped Care up once again, placing a tight kiss on her cheek and letting her go. "I'm sorry, princess." Her lips quivered in upset. "I didn't mean to upset you, baby." She then nodded, going back into his arms for a hug.

Soon, she let go and came to me, though she is usually a daddy's girl. Today, she was more attached to her mom, especially after I took her on a horseback ride for the first time. She usually was afraid of our horses, Jack and Xander, but today, she was brave.

His bark caught our attention, and he did a full spin, waiting for his ball to be thrown.

He caved, thee Nathaniel Crawford caved. After his daughter conned him into buying a Dalmatian after watching One Hundred and One. He couldn't say no to his little girl, and his big girl... I may have played my part in sending him the ads for the nearby pet shelter that housed some.

Winston is our puppy, just about 5 months old. But even though Nate claims he despises him, I always seem to catch the two snuggled up together.

The green tennis ball rolled to my feet, and I picked it up. "Okay, Winnie, go get it, boy!" I chucked it out into the field, and he dashed after it as if he was chasing after a meat truck.

Nate looked next to my Adirondack chair and reached into the bassinet, holding up our little boy as he stretched; he was a silent snoozer. "Good afternoon," he whispered.

Alex was just three months old. We didn't plan on having another baby so soon, but things just kind of happen. Nate was so excited when I told him, and he was suspicious when I wasn't picking up Care as much as I usually did.

He had soft brown hair and his father's blue, green eyes "Mummy Aunty Jill!" Care whined.

"She's coming over later, I promise! She won't blow you off; she just has things to do!" It's true. Jillian was very busy. She graduated from Amherst a month ago and dipped her toes into the real world. It was icy.