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| Lady - mad as a box of hats until May 2014 |
Holy crap, that's a year since my - inherited - wee dog passed away. Inherited, in as much as I knew her from not quite a pup and although I stayed in the same house, she was my papa's dog. She was from a rescue kennel some seventeen years or so earlier she couldn't have wished for a better home.
I inherited her when papa couldn't cope and moved in 24 hour residential care a couple of years ago. Although I worked and was out most of the day, my mum and dad stay less than 100 yards away and let her out twice a day. After papa died - after reaching his one hundredth birthday - Lady became mine.
Apart from a wee bout of a weird dizziness affliction she was fit as a fiddle until the end. Returning home one day, she was lying on the kitchen floor and from the symptoms - from reading up on her dizziness episode - I knew instantly that she had had a stroke, and a bad one. I rushed her to the vet but the prognosis was terminal; there was no coming back from this.
It was uncharactertically thunderous weather and as I held her in my arms with thunder crashing overhead and lightning flashing she was gone.
Still chokes me up.
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| In Valhalla running with Geri and Freki |
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