After deciding to make room for a dog in our lives we chose to adopt from a local rescue centre, I visited a couple of times and there was a heap of sad or excited faces but nothing quite right then one afternoon I went and found the most beautiful dog called Marley sitting quietly looking so sad I asked for details on him, he seemed to fit the bill so I got to meet him and took him for a stroll in the woodland in the grounds, he was so soft and gentle it was a done deal providing he got on with the rest of the family, as soon as we could we all went, Millie loved him but what four year old wouldn’t love that face, he was a mixed breed I would say some sort of bulldog breed with a good portion of Labrador and he had the strangest colour coat sort of blue but with a hint gold. We all agreed he was coming home and it started ok until I went to the toilet shutting him downstairs, in the time it took for me to have a quick wee he shredded the stairs door! This was the start of a slippery slope! The separation anxiety was specific to me and escalated at the rate of knots, I nipped out to the car…..he skinned the chaise lounge. By my side he was a dream but only 24 hours after he arrived he started to guard me. My Mum and Dad were the first to visit and I was horrified at Marley’s behaviour, he went berserk, I grew up in a house were we always had three or four dogs but I had never seen one behave like that only in films where they are foaming at the mouth trying to rip someone apart. My dad is an experienced dog handler and told me what to do eventually we got him into the house and he won Marley around but even then if dad moved he growled. Dad understands dogs psychology pretty well and voiced his serious concern about the unhealthy bond he had formed with me in a very very short time. Dad was seriously worried about Millies safety, I don’t think he would have hurt her intentionally but his attacks were so frenzied if she had got in his way when he was on one I don’t think he would have known who he was biting. A couple more terrifying incidents away from the house happened when people I knew walked towards me and I get dogs bark at postmen but he wanted them dead, when he flipped he couldn’t even hear me shouting he was so set on killing people, so a little over a week after he arrived I made the heart breaking decision to return him to the rescue centre, he even treated the man that had looked after him at Viking Oaks only a few days previously with the same contempt. I was broken and still wonder what happened to that poor boy to make him so defensive and what the future held for him but fear it’s best I don’t know.

Left with the emotional scars of failing Marley it was about eight months before we thought we would try again this time with Battersea, we wanted the security of their strict vetting process for both the dogs and the life we would offer him or her to make sure we didn’t end up in that situation again. We sat the lengthy interview and passed the home check and thought we were good to go but every time we found a dog we liked and thought fitted ours and their criteria we were vetoed by the receptionist, she never asked our names just simply said no they aren’t aren’t suitable for us or no that’s a difficult breed, one dog was an 18 month old beagle called Monty he seemed perfect but again she wouldn’t even look at our file to try and go forward. Then on one trip they had a litter of mastiff x puppies out with one of the staff, she did such an amazing job convincing us that they were the perfect dogs for busy people as they are lazy and only need short walks each day, even if the wrinkly faced and big floppy paws weren’t enough the description fitted our lifestyle perfectly……I was sold! Sadly the receptionist at the Wrotham branch was even more unhelpful than usual she simply said no don’t even bother trying they have a very long list for puppies so we gave up. Some weeks later I received a call from someone there to say they thought they had found a perfect fit for us and low and behold it was Monty I explained we had enquired about him but thanks to the the woman on the desks negativity by then the vacancy had been filled and that’s where this story begins.

I found an advert for Dogue de Bordeaux x English Mastiff puppies in Surrey, there were only two left of a litter of nine and they were already 17 weeks old by then but nothing would put me off. The next day we made a diversion to view them on our way to work. We walked in and met Rosie the mum of the two puppies she was big, beautiful and very friendly, so far so good……..and then the woman let the two hounds of hell in, they bounced over every bit of furniture in the room and although they were puppies they were already the size of ponies it was chaos, god only knows what it was like with nine of them! They were both brindle but different colours, It was quite clear the yellow and black one was much quieter and better behaved than the red stripey nutter, he was into everything like a bull in a china shop, so my gut instinct said take the quiet one even the breeder said he walked nicely on a lead but the other was clueless so obviously half an hour later clueless was in the car on his way to work with us!

Woefully unprepared we stopped at a Pets at Home and £170.00 later/lighter we came out stocked up with beds, a lead, harness, food, treats brushes, poo bags, toys anything else doggiefied you can think of. He was only halfway through his vaccinations so I didn’t get him out of the car which was a bit of a mistake because 5 mins after leaving he tiddled a lake on the backseat.

I forget the name of the studio we went to but the guy there made the most incredible metal sculptures, we were there to repair his welding plant but I was far more interested in puppy sitting, being February it was bloody cold so had the enormous puppy on my lap giving him a cuddle, it must have been a horrible wrench for him, being taken from his mother going on a journey with two strangers and then sitting in the cold car so he clung to me and I clung back breathing in the puppy smell. The guy who owned the studio was was a bit of a grungy hippy with long ginger matted hair and woolly hat with ear flaps and tassels, wearing some sort of smelly carpet poncho (you get the picture) he wanted to come and see the puppy and were happy to show him off but to our surprise the puppy curled his lip up and growled, it was a very strong opinion for one so young but an opinion that was to last his whole life, he decided that people with hats were not to be trusted!

After that quick job we headed home and as soon as we got in he climbed on my lap and slept and slept like he had never slept before, he weighed a ton so we both stretched out on the sofa and dozed off ….I vaguely remember a conversation about no dogs on the furniture or upstairs but the minute he stepped indoors he wasn’t just a dog he was family and I was besotted with him.

His paperwork said his name was Redley but we hated that and he didn’t really take any notice of it (little did I know he didn’t take any notice of anything unless there was a promise of food) so we set about trying to rename him, writing a list of potential names I remember it was a long list and I remember putting aDiesel and Dozer on there, Millies input was Hot Wheels (she was five and hot-wheels were her thing) but we decided on a more sophisticated name and Bentley just suited him, god knows why because sophisticated could not have been further from the truth, he also came to be known as Lumpy, spanner, numpty, dufus, slopey, bendy, B and a whole heap of expletives.

Now I had successfully trained three dogs all quickly getting the basic commands, walked perfectly off the lead, retrieved etc but in-spite my best endeavours this dog did none of these things. I researched the breed characteristics before we made our mind up to get a mastiff and it did indeed say they were difficult to train, stubborn, lazy, defensive of their territory, slow to mature, prone to chewing, drooling and flatulence and he was every bit textbook mastiff!

Everyone who saw him loved him, he won a few rosettes including first place in the “dog the judge would most like to take home” class, sadly he did not love everyone back he could be picky about who he liked about every 1 in 100 people were not to his liking and although he never bit anyone his bark was certainly responsible for a few underwear changes. If someone he didn’t like the look of invaded his space he would leave it until the last min to let rip, if he was on a lead it was only ever a single bark from a seated position, but he had a proper big dog park and his expression clearly said “take one step closer I dare you”. I lost count how many people ran away from the car clutching their chests, I caught one silly old bastard in London tapping on the car window with his stick from a mobility cart laughing at my dog trying to rip the mans head off through the glass, I offered to let him out if he was that keen on a closer look. I am certain the fed-ex delivery man that made the mistake of banging on the front room window left brown streaks on the lawn as he ran for the safety of his van because Bentley ran at the window so hard he went straight through it ending up in the front garden, luckily the dick head dog was so shocked he just stood there wondering how he ended up outside and the only person that got injured was me trying to clear the mess up! I never realised how stupid some people are until I had him, it was at a time the Dangerous dog stories were big news so we had a strict no stroking policy, we would politely ask people to say hello from a distance and still people would ignore us, one person even said “oh I don’t mind if he bites me” (in fairness he did look stupid) but well dressed intelligent people would say things like “oh it’s ok all dogs love me” and “I know dogs” the fact is no one “knows” dogs and soft as he was he would take on anyone who came within 10ft of the car or the house and this was ramped up to another level if that person was wearing a hat, glasses and I hate to say it….,black, yes my dog was totally racist! We tried muzzles and Halties to make him less appealing to stroke and hopefully more controllable and yes he did stop pulling and people were afraid and kept more of m a distance but because he was doing headstands up the road, snuffling and grunting like a manic rabid beast. So we stopped taking him out to busy places. At home his guarding was welcomed and the less scrupulous members of the travelling community stopped pinching stuff out the garden quite quickly when they knew he was around, one was poking around the cars so he chased him up the drive and the guy didn’t have time to open the door so jumped head first in open window leaving his legs sticking out, he was screaming “call your dog off please for fecks sake call your dog off” I called and B came and sat next to me (I was never more proud of him) the man was as white as a sheet when wriggled back out of the window and gave me some bullshit about wanting to buy the car, I gave him 1 min to get out of the garden before I let Bentley go again. He alerted us to a strange car parked in the garden at 2am one morning so I let him out and he went nuts, there were calls for help from the car and I felt a bit bad when it was only a couple that thought they had a found a quiet place for a shag in the car, I suspect my hound of the Baskerville at their window in the dead of night killed any passion they had planned that night. There were a few more unsavoury characters he saw off in his lifetime, as a burglar deterrent he was priceless!

In an attempt to calm him down and frankly we were sick of the green willy goo he left on the soft furnishings we thought we would send him for the snip! He was fine with the veterinary nurse that took him from me, he trotted up the corridor with his sizeable goolies swinging away, I was pleased it was the last time I would see them! I was a bit surprised to get a phone call asking for me to come and get him urgently, turns out he was too big and heavy to lift into one of their cages after the chop so they thought they would be nice and let him come round in the operating theatre, the problem was when he came round I presume he realised they had stolen his prized balls and he wasn’t letting them anywhere near him again, so until I got there all further surgery was cancelled! He really wasn’t keen on the vets after that, information I relayed when he went to a different vet to have two non cancerous tumours removed from his front leg, I said they might need me when he came around, I said it went bad last time and I said please call me so I could head back before he wakes up to keep his stress levels at a minimum, all of this they agreed to none of it did they do! So once again I got a panicked call to ask me to get there ASAP they also couldn’t fit him in a cage so had given him the X-ray room to come round in and having woken up confused, sore and wearing the biggest cone of shame in the world he was proper pissed off and yes you guessed it all X-rays were cancelled until I could come and get him…….I did say!

Our first trip out after his vaccinations were complete was to the coast, we ended up at Dungeness because it was quiet, as he was so awful walking on the lead I let him loose the joy on his floppy face was clear to see, he loved the beach and even stuck a foot in the sea mainly to try and bite the oncoming waves. A few years later one of his funniest antics was on the beach at Hastings, I’m sure all responsible dog owners will be tutting at our lack of control but Bentley was his own dog and what started as a civilised stroll amongst the fishing boats turned into a horror scene, he found a massive stinking dead dog fish and started galloping around shaking it to death (like it wasn’t dead enough already) I tried I really did to get him to come back but this was game on for him and it ended up with me chasing him up the beach screeching his name while he ran amongst families and couples picnicking on the pebbles, shaking the rotting fish in their faces, the screams could probably be heard for miles! He played a similar game at whistable with a small dead crab only this time the cries of horror were because of him shaking the black oily mud he had coated himself in over people walking on the beach, he looked and smelt like the creature from the black lagoon, the hour long car journey home was not a pleasant one.

In the early years I was working full time as an electronics engineer mostly around London and Surrey but occasionally much further afield Bentley came to work every day enjoying his self appointed guard dog position, long walks between jobs, and chicken nuggets from the drive through Mac Donald’s (that always got a laugh from the staff) but every so often he would get bored and we’d come back to the car to find he’d eaten part of the interior, the damage added up to many hundreds of pounds, my all time favourite was the day I jumped in the car went to plug my seatbelt in only to find it wouldn’t make that comforting click no matter how hard I tried it just wouldn’t catch, on closer inspection he had chewed the release button, at 6pm there was nothing I could do to replace it so I had to drive 50 miles home without a seatbelt on properly, that particular misdemeanour cost about £150.00. He ate multiple sun visors, armrests, headrests, the gear knob was impressive I replaced that with a metal one and oh not to forget the button on the handbrake that was great fun! If the car wasn’t doing it for him he took to climbing in the back of the Discovery and eating the interior of hard hats and safety boots. I thought I might try and put an end to his teething on the car by purchasing a pricey bottle of “Stop Chew” I soaked the car interior and left him for 15 mins but yes you guessed it by the time I got back he chewed another armrest (eBay was doing a cracking trade in used Land Rover fittings) but this comedy dog didn’t stop there he also chewed the shite out of the “Stop Chew Bottle” thank goodness he grew out of that habit fairly quickly.

Indoors he was a mostly a superstar he never chewed (except ate one of my Crocs but I think he did me a favour stopping me committing the ulitimate fashion crime and a tv remote) he didn’t steal food as rule you could leave something right in front of him and he never touched it until you said he could, but there was that one time when we had spent hours making sausages from scratch they were all beautifully finished and linked in batches to be cooked or frozen and I don’t know what got into him but they were left unattended long enough for him to eat the bloody lot (about 1.5kilos. He would sit and speak on command for treats and was always so gentle when he took them, it was pretty much the only bit of discipline he had. The car was his and food rules didn’t apply to him there no matter how hard you tried to conceal your shopping if you stepped out of the car all meat products were gone in seconds, he also took to drinking Costa coffee if you left any unattended, we watched him on one occasion, he snuck over the front and popped the lid off the cup stuck his fat nose in and lapped up the coffee then took the cup over the back to finish the job properly, it’s amazing he lived as long as he did! We took him on our annual work trip to Cornwall he loved walks on the beach in the afternoons and crashing around a holiday cottage like a herd of elephants upsetting the the neighbours. On the the return journey we stopped in Tiverton for pasties to take home for everyone, that’s 7 giant pasties with various fillings at £4.50 per pasty. We made it nearly all the way home but desperate for a wee made a dash for the services first taking time to build an impenetrable barricade of tool boxes, drills and suitcases over the top of the pasties, we practically sprinted to the loos did what we had to do and jogged back to the car…….too late all that was left was shredded paper bags and a guilty looking dog! His face got him out of most trouble, you could only admire his determination and incredible speed but this story doesn’t end there! I was working two jobs then as I had started up my floristry business so at 03:00 I had got up and Bentley and I headed for Covent Garden flower market. I left him in the van while I shopped for flowers loaded the the boxes and went for breakfast, a big fat greasy fry up the whole thing took around an hour. On returning to the van I knew that something was wrong by the look on B’s face and the fact he was huddle on one seat when I opened the door I had never seen anything like it there was diarrhoea from one end of the cab to the other, on every inch of the seats, it had run down and filled the door pockets, he started paddling around in it and I couldn’t do a bloody thing to stop him dogs are absolutely forbidden out of vehicles he would have got me thrown out. I did what any woman would do in these circumstances I cried, I didn’t know where to start but something had to be done so I got empty boxes from the bins and started scraping the liquid shite off with cardboard paddles and as much loo roll as I could get, I washed my hands until they were raw and then made a horrible mistake of emptying the contents of a bottle of air freshener on the seat fabric. I drove home with my head out one window and Bentleys flappy flannel face hanging out the other trying to suck in fresh air not the stench of diarrhoea now mixed with sickly freesia floral air fresheners (a scent that still makes me gag to this day) so not only did the bastard eat £30.00 worth of pasties he ruined my van no amount of shampooing seats ever got the memory of that day out of my mind! I would like to say that was an isolated incident but it wasn’t there were at least three other explosive situations caused by snacksidents, one when I was trying to get 33 funeral tributes out for a very large travellers funeral, this time he covered practically every square inch of the Discovery interior and you have no idea how many nooks and crannies there are in a car until you fill it with liquid crap. There was an occasion he must have got fed up waiting for his daily Denta stick so he pinched the whole box and ate all 27, they didn’t come out like sticks! Another time he was as least confined to the boot of the range rover by the one dog guard he didn’t dismantle, this was no where near as bad as previous two events but unfortunately Range Rover has installed the CD player at arsehole height so you can work the rest out!

There’s no denying Bentley was a lump he would bulldoze his way through anything and anyone, he knocked my 6ft well built cousin Max off his feet leaving huge bruises on his knees, he tore my hamstring by pulling so hard on the lead I had try and anchor my feet to stop from being dragged over and I’m no lightweight, I managed to dig my feet against the curb and leant back determined to bring him under control but the next thing I knew was a ripping sensation followed by searing burning pain at the back of my left leg followed by weeks of physio and ultrasonic treatment. One of his finest comedy moments was when Bob was trying to “train” him, Bentley ran up behind him as fast as could (and he could run) at the last second he cat leapt up rugby tackling him from behind knocking him to the ground, stole the bag of training treats and fecked off across the park where he ate the whole bag at leisure! He trod on feet knocked us down the stairs and we all had a giant paw in the face at some point!

He didn’t limit his clumsyness to injuring us, his hairbrained hoolying caused himself a few problems at times, like the trip to Fairlight where Millie and I thought it would be nice to walk him on the cliffs to the fire hills, knowing he was frankly a dick we avoided the cliff tops and stayed further inland away from sheer drops and people, he did what he always did when let loose he ran as fast as he could in circles gradually making them bigger until one turn too many found him crashing into a huge patch of gorse, he yelped from the thorns and jumped around like a stag in the 10m wide bush, every time he landed he yelped and launched himself back in the air, I don’t think I can do the story justice in writing but the visuals were just the funniest thing ever and I honestly thought Millie would rupture something she laughed so hard (he was totally unharmed and suitably embarrassed by the incident)

He did fancy himself as a bit of a hunter, truth is he could catch a cold so he was overjoyed when one of the chicken escaped and I managed to herd it straight into his mouth, he didn’t hurt her he just ran around with her flapping in his mouth I cornered him and tried to get him to spit her out but he wasn’t up for that so I had to put my first in his mouth to get him to release his jaws, Ethel left at high speed and he slopped off indoors. Then there was the rabbit he got from god knows where I think it was probably dead when he found it trouble was he was supposed to be jumping in the car to go on the school run but instead I chased him around the orchard in the snow for 15 mins with this floppy dead bunny in jowls, every now and then he would stop and crunch on it making me heave, I confess that if I’d had a gun that day I would have shot him! The cats would bring him in dead mice and baby rabbits which he would gum until they were soggy with his legendary dog snot, a substance like nothing else on earth, I knew he would be a drooler and I thought I was was ok with that but the reality was a little more inconvenient than I expected, like we haven’t had a pane of glass we can see through for 10 years, when he shook which was often it would fly across the room coating any surface, if you were going out he would come and rest his snotty flannels on your clean outfit every time, when it dries it looks like jis, I once took my laptop to a brides meeting and when I opened it up it looked like someone had got over excited watching porn it took a while for me to realise it was dried dog snot flicked up the screen and I could see they were thinking the same thing I was before the penny dropped and found myself babbling about the dog slobbering, they did book their wedding flowers so I think they believed me in the end. Not only did it cover windows and screens etc if it got on a hard floor you could scoot for miles on it, bare foot on dog slobber scaring should be a sport (a bloody dangerous sport I almost ripped myself in two doing the splits in the kitchen many times) He could do great tricks with his slime, if you put something he thought smelt great near him he could blow snot bubbles out of both sides of his jowls these could get really big but always burst just before you could get a picture.

As I said Millie was 5 when Bentley came into our lives, they were inseparable from the start, growing up together they morphed into the same sort of creature, lazy sofa loafers with a lack of personal hygiene, there’s nothing they both liked more than a duvet day together and I there’s nothing they liked less than having a bath! Millie and Bentley played together all the time, they both enjoyed a game of tugger or a bit of wrestling, she would build agility courses which was just a demolition derby, but the best game of all was dog skiing, I would walk up a hill and they would stay at the bottom until I called him, he would bound up like freight train and she would then get dragged up behind him, they did this as many times as they could until one of them was exhausted (usually Millie)

Bentley could not be gotten into a bath for all the tea in China, the scene from Turner and Hooch where he tries to wrestle the dog into the bath but ends up in the bath himself…I’ve been there, I wrestled my 55kilo dog from the bedroom across the landing and eventually got his front two legs over the bathtub and although I didn’t fall in I got soaked lost my grip and B buggered off, I had not one ounce of strength left to try again so the next time was a washing up bowl and a long handled brush in the back garden and that was the only way he ever got washed from then on! He did love to be brushed was excellent at having his nails cut, he used to lift each paw up in turn for you to cut them (Millie painted them once as well) I used to clean his teeth regularly and right into old age his teeth were pearly white, he would take his worming tablet without a fuss and flea treatment was a doddle, he had a few ear infections but loved having his ears cleaned and putting drops in was never a problem, that was pretty much all the ailments he ever had, he was always a very fit and healthy dog, possibly with some form of autism, you couldn’t move things he got really weird and would stare at cushions out of place or if he was given temporary bowls while his went in the dishwasher he would just look at them but refused to eat or drink out of them, cars parked outside the front of the house would make him loose sleep and if a cat got on his bed he would let it stay there while he just sat at the side looking sorry for himself, we loved him for being “special”

I was worried the big sensitive lump would be put out when I fell pregnant with my son, we was hilarious with my baby bump he knew something was in there and would tip his head on one side listening or stick his nose on my tummy and sniff, I didn’t think he would be happy sharing his family but my fears were unfounded he loved Fabian as much as we did, he was happy to clear up food Fabe threw from his high chair and Fabe found Bentley a great source of amusement, I never left them alone but I know he would never have hurt him if anything I would fear more for Bentley being hurt by Fabian. As they grew up together they were great friends and partners in crime!

Talking of Bentleys friends, pretty much all other dogs hated him, I guess it was his size (or smell) but they all picked on him, he would just sit and get savaged by terriers, he never retaliated which was just as well or it would have ended badly for his attacker he was just too soft. He did on the other hand love cats, we had five and he got on with all of them only ever giving chase to split them up if they had a spat, we called it his PC Bentley routine. Spyder and B had the most wonderful relationship, as soon as Spyder came in he would go to Bentley and rub himself all over B, Bentley would groom spyder, nibbling him gently fleaing him occasionally getting carried away so Spyder would dab him on the nose. Sometimes washing him, by the time Spydie got fed up and walked off he would be soggy with dog snot.

He had know concept of his size and still considered himself a lapdog right until the end, he would slither on your lap (like you wouldn’t notice) once there you had minutes before your legs went dead and he was a sod to get back off but he have the best cuddles. The faces he pulled were legendary, his running ones with his crazy eyes and ears flapping, his shaking himself faces when his wrinkles ended up on the wrong side of his face where he shook so hard and best of all his sleeping faces were just hilarious and always accompanied with his trademark snoring, he slept on the floor at the end of the bed (except when he would sneak on the bed in the night and you would wake up unable to move your legs) and the bloody noise he would make could wake the dead, it was basically like living with and old man with all the farting, snoring and proper burps and his feet smelt like feet, he was such a class act in every way.

November 2019 he really started to slowdown, it seemed he got old overnight, he’d been going grey around the gills for a few years but he looked tired and slowed down, he’d had a few lumps and bumps but there was a larger bump on his back that was causing him problems sitting down, with every week that passed something else went wrong, he started to wee more and more but his poo’s got smaller (he went from massive elephant turds to rabbit droppings) and his weight began to fall off, by February we knew the kindest thing would be to have him put to sleep so I spoke with the vet we both agreed investigation wasn’t going to help, he was too old for surgery and even if the mass could be removed recovery would be difficult. The date was set and we booked the day off to take him but the day before (and all that night) the heavens opened and didn’t stop until we were flooded in so he got a stay of execution directly from heaven. Because he had stopped eating I decided to try him on wet food to see if it helped, his eyes nearly popped out of his head and ate like he hadn’t eaten in weeks, and with his new found appetite he perked up a lot, he went for walks over the field and even played a bit but it didn’t last his weight started to drop and a few weeks later he stopped eating again, he couldn’t even be bothered to eat his daily dentastick and he would usually do anything for one of those so we knew it was time.

We made the appointment for 16:00 Wednesday 15th April 2020, I made myself as busy as I could all day but then the time came, we took him for a walk in the field, we didn’t go far but it was something we needed to do one last time. He got in the car and had a drink before we drove him to the vets. Because of the Coronavirus we couldn’t go in so had to say our goodbye at the doors, then I hung his lead on a hook and the vet came and walked him away. When she called to say he had gone it didn’t seem like it was happening to us it was like I was watching someone else get the call, she said he was a really good boy and he just laid down and went to sleep peacefully, so he finally behaved himself at the vets! They brought him out to us wrapped in a blanket and put him in the boot. We took the long drive to Cherry Trees pet crematorium talking, laughing crying about his antics. Again because of this crappy pandemic we didn’t see anyone, they left us a stretcher and the paperwork, so carried him up the steps and had to laugh at how bloody heavy he was, he had lost so much weight the past couple of months but he was still a lump.

Bentley was a twat but he was the best twat, he was gentle and loyal and knew when I needed a cuddle, his face never ever failed to make me smile no matter how shitty life was he made me laugh, I felt safe with him around and his love for us unconditional. I have so many memories of the past 11 years I wish I could write them all down to stop them fading and I wish I could write well enough to portray what he was truly like, but what I really wish is that I had more memories to make with him! I knew that losing him would be hard but nothing could have prepared me for the pain of making the decision to let him go, or emptiness he has left, we still have a house full of pets but it feels lifeless without him, he was the heart and soul of this place. His hair is still everywhere (and will be for years to come I suspect) I can’t put his bowls away it feels too final and his chewed toys are still peeping out from under the sofas, I don’t want to move them…..bloody dogs, they come into your life they wreck your house and then break your heart but I would do it all again with him tomorrow if I could!