December 7, 2015

When I was very little we had a Great Dane called Magnus with a white coat covered in large, black splodges. He was the size of a small pony. At least once a week,  to the chagrin of our nursery school principle, Magnus used to sprint from home to school (about 3-miles) and appear in the playground. Every child use to dash inside the moment he appeared, leaving my tiny brother and I standing alone alongside Magnus. My mum would come and get him, and that would be that. We thought his school visits were amazing. We thought Magnus was amazing.



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