I loved you dearly, Dandy, and I wish I could pull down your soft face towards mine once again, and talk of the times when you took me down Hill 63 and along Hyde Park corner at Ploegsteert.

Had I not been wounded and sent back to England at the end of the war, I would have brought you home with me to show to my family--a friend that not merely uncomplainingly but cheerfully, with prancing feet and arching neck and well groomed skin, bore me safely through dangers and darkness, on crowded roads and untracked fields.
What dances we have had together, Dandy, when I have got the bands to play a waltz and you have gone through the twists and turns of a performance in which you took an evident delight! I used to tell the men that Dandy and I always came home together.

Sometimes I was on his back and sometimes he was on mine, but we always came home together.
A few days later my establishment was increased by the purchase of a well-bred little white fox-terrier.

He rejoiced in the name of Philo and became my inseparable companion.

The men called him my curate.
Dandy, Philo and I made a family party which was bound together by very close ties of affection.