Here’s a story for you. Sit cross-legged and put your thumb in your mouth if you want.

Once upon a time there was a policeman called John Gray and he lived in Scotland. John was an ordinary guy, but he had an extraordinary dog, called Bobby. Bobby was a Skye terrier, a little bundle of fur. He loved John and John loved him, but John died, as everyone must at some time or other. John’s friends buried him in the yard of Greyfriars church. Soon after, the gardener found Bobby sitting on John’s grave. This, everyone agreed, couldn’t be allowed. Churchyards have to be kept neat and tidy and dogs, especially Bobby, were neither. So the gardener chased him off and was quite nasty, because you have to be firm with animals and let them know who’s the boss.

Bobby didn’t know who the boss was.

He snuck back in and sat on his master’s grave. He was chased off again. He came back. Again. And again.

Eventually, the gardener’s heart softened and he stopped chasing him off. The man even started feeding him. Bobby stayed, keeping watch over John’s grave for the next fourteen years until he died himself, as all animals must at some time or other.

This is a true story and you can look it up if you google ‘Greyfriars Bobby’.

It’s an example (and there are many) of how love is wonderful and magnificent and mysterious.