intertext

My friend Judith phoned me earlier this evening to tell me that her beardie, Henry, is very ill and not expected to live more than a few days. He's had a tumour on his lungs for some time, and it has finally caught up with him; he's not eating and is failing fast. Henry is Cholmondeley's brother, and they've known each other all their lives, almost. Judith and I met in the park one day, each with a beardie puppy, obviously the same age, and we quickly established that they were from the same litter; in fact, I had met Henry when I met Chums for the first time. When we started talking, it turned out that Judith and I had more in common than just our dogs, and we have become good friends. I also really like her husband, Bill.

I feel so sad - not just at the loss of a great dog, but because when I saw him last I didn't know it was going to be the last time I saw him. I wish I'd kissed him on the nose, or said goodbye properly. But how can you say goodbye "properly"? That's why we didn't meet last Saturday, when I spent the afternoon happily in the garden, because they were taking Henry to the vet - but they called me that evening and said they thought it was only an infection... but it wasn't.

And of course I know what they must be going through. I'm looking at my Chums and knowing that he's nearly fourteen and has been ill already this year and is getting thin and creaky.

oh, dogs.