...and so to run in heavenly fields. The old doggie died here today while I was sitting with him on the floor. No vets or anything, just in his own dignified way and with little fuss. My daughter boarded the plane at about the same time he died, so she has yet to find out. She always rings me on connecting flights - in between and I can't pretend with her, so her next flight will be not very happy. We both prayed she would make it.
Last night I made a bed on the floor beside him and sat awake with him till 3am... as he seemed really concerned if he couldn't see me... he has been such a gentle dog, a funny dog, always starving, drooling at the sound of paper or plastic.
I have laid him in his leopard skincoloured bed and with his woolen Bilby. I made sure he looked as good as I could to lessen things for Alison as these two were inseparable for the first ten years... she always told him she'd get him back to the country and she did that. We were happy to have him and he came to us at a time when Don was getting sicker, and we needed his silliness, and has been my constant mate since Don died.
Don't tell me dogs don't have souls.