She watched as the little girl played stood in the wet sand by the shoreline. Smiling as each sweep of water that came in from the ocean swept across the girl's feet, and then flew away like it was playing tag with her. A soft giggle escaped the one with wet feet, and she turned to look at her mother who was stood watching her, a pair of shoes and socks in her hands.

A couple of large dogs ran between the two of them, and the girl focussed back on the waves, her hands flailing at her sides as the water came up to her again. The two dogs, a Dalmatian and a German Shepard were bounding along the beach, snapping at each other's tails playfully, before the boisterous Dalmatian would try and pounce on the larger, more aggressive canine. Neither of them was ever harmed in this exercise, and it was plain to see they both enjoyed it.

The Lady holding the shoes was scanning everything carefully. Her little angel in the sand was happy, and her puppies were happy. It made her happy. A tear of pain slid down her cheek, but she quickly wiped it away. The second her tears had fallen, the other three on the beach turned to look at her for a moment. She offered them a smile, and two turned back. The German Shepard had gone down to the girl at shoreline, and she was leaning down to pick up the sand and watch it fall off her hands.

The other dog still stared at her though, tipping his head to the side before padding off to her. She bit her lip, knowing that the dog knew what she was feeling. The dog missed its dad more than her daughter did. She closed her eyes and knelt down on her knees, setting the shoes down beside her as the Dalmatian slid its chin to rest on her shoulder. Poppy wasn't just a dog, she knew, she felt and understood. It pained her to think of how her life had turned out. Poppy's neck craned and she lifted a paw to rest on her owner's arm, in an attempt to comfort. She was greeted with a wide hug and a kiss on her fluffy forehead.

With a sort of doggy-smile, she bounced off. Running up to the girl who was playing in the sand. The dog was more aware than her daughter, because the dog wasn't autistic. Did dogs get autism? She would never know. A heavy sigh escaped her and she stood back up to her feet, brushing the sand from her knees and scooping up the tiny shoes beside her.

"Sallie, It's home in Five Minutes." The girls turned to look at her, nodded and then looked back at the ocean. She waved goodbye to the waves, turning on her heel and running over to her mother. Taking her hand, she looked up and offered a smile. It was rare to see such a thing on her daughter, but with every passing day that she got one to one training with a Special needs Visitor she got better. She was beginning to feel and understand. Most of all she was learning to live.

"Mummy, when I grow up. Can I live by the ocean with you?" Looking down to the girl whose fingers gripped her hand tightly, she nodded. Looking up to the house ahead of them, the house she had longed for almost all her life she nodded.

"You can live here all your life." The girl nodded, smiling, and ran ahead up to the decking of the porch. She wouldn't understand now, but her father had paid for that house with his savings. The two of them had moved in to their dream home young, and the girl's mother had given birth to her very soon after. It was then that she wrote a book, and then that she became renown, then that she began her proper career as an author.

Her thoughts wanted to stop there, but they kept on going. Her husband, the hospital appointments, her daughter's difficulties during toddling age and her trips to the doctors. Then on that day... Two life-changing diagnoses. Her husband with cancer, and her daughter with Autism. She fought hard not to fight the tears now, making her way up to the house of her dreams. She could cope with never having anything published again; she could cope with her daughter's diagnosis. Collapsing onto the porch, the three that loved her so crowded round. She got up quickly, swearing she would never show her grief before her daughter, she had to stay strong for her.