I knew but did not believe that your life with us was at its end. A phone call, then I lifted you into the car and took you, with your lolling tongue, to where we would be told it was best to put you to sleep.
I carried you across the car-park in the darkness. Your head hung over my arm. You had no interest now in this world. Your belly was hot on my hand. Yet your black coat still shone.
The girl, qualified and caring, said it was kindest to let you go.
We had to leave you. We could not bear to watch you go. Our goodbye to you fell on your ears, already tuned to another world.
I was half-a-mile away, manoeuvring gloomily round the big traffic island when the lethal injection was administered. I knew it, and believe I felt your passing.
After three years, another dog came to our home and we love her. We loved all of the ones before you. But you – you I love most of all.
Written whilst on holiday in Cornwall,
Wednesday, 2nd May, 2007.
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