Lunar and the Palace of Poppies

Lunar had a way of moving through the world that made people stop and stare. She was a sleek, sable German Shepherd with intelligent amber eyes and large, alert ears that stood tall — though one had a habit of drooping just slightly to the side, as though she was always listening to something the rest of the world couldn't quite hear. Her dog walker, Auntie Hayley, often said that walking Lunar was less like a walk and more like a wander.

On a warm Friday morning in late spring, Auntie Hayley led Lunar down a lane she had never noticed before — a narrow, cobbled little path tucked between two tall hedgerows, with a hand-painted wooden sign at the entrance that read:

🌸 Poppy's Palace — All Are Welcome 🌸

Lunar's nose went to work immediately.

Through the gate was the most extraordinary garden either of them had ever seen.

Flowers of every colour tumbled over stone walls and wound themselves around old iron arches. Lavender swayed in lazy rows. Roses climbed impossibly high. And in the very centre of it all, a fountain burbled quietly, surrounded by a carpet of wild poppies in brilliant shades of red, orange, and cream.

"Oh my," breathed Auntie Hayley.

Lunar said nothing, but her tail began to wag in a slow, steady rhythm — like a metronome set to absolutely perfect.

An elderly woman appeared from behind a rose arch, wearing a wide sun hat covered in silk flowers and a pair of gardening gloves that had seen better decades.

"Ah!" she said, beaming. "You must be the morning walkers. I'm Poppy. And who is this magnificent creature?"

"This is Lunar," said Auntie Hayley.

Poppy clasped her gloved hands together. "Lunar. Of course. She has the look of someone who takes her job very seriously."

Lunar walked over to Poppy with great seriousness, sniffed her gloves thoroughly (lavender, compost, and something biscuity), and then leaned gently against her leg — which, for a German Shepherd of Lunar's stature, was quite a lean.

Poppy laughed with her whole body. "She's hired," she declared. "Official Palace Inspector."

Poppy gave them a proper tour. There was the Butterfly Corner, where Lunar spent a full five minutes attempting to befriend a particularly bold red admiral — sitting perfectly still, ears pricked forward, with the patience only a German Shepherd truly possesses. There was the Vegetable Patch, where Lunar discovered she had surprisingly strong feelings about courgettes (she did not approve). And there was the Sunflower Alley — a corridor of towering yellow blooms that Lunar padded through with the air of a general inspecting her troops.

At the centre of the garden, beside the fountain, Poppy had set out a little wooden table with two cups of tea and a china bowl of water with rose petals floating on top.

"For the Inspector," Poppy said, nodding to the bowl.

Lunar drank from it with enormous dignity.

As they were leaving, Poppy pressed a small bunch of lavender into Auntie Hayley's hand and knelt down to say goodbye to Lunar properly.

"You come back anytime, brave girl," she whispered. "The Palace is always open for you."

Lunar licked her once on the nose.

Poppy giggled like a child.

Auntie Hayley and Lunar wandered back down the cobbled lane, the scent of flowers trailing behind them, Lunar's ears catching the breeze. She looked up at Auntie Hayley once, with those sharp amber eyes, and Auntie Hayley could have sworn she was smiling.

Some days on the job were just walks. And some days were magic.