Tirn, my tricolour border collie, had just turned sixteen when I started this page. The miles we used to walk together each day had reduced very considerably, but still he took me out for our regular exercise, enjoying the scents much more now than he once had time for. A frightening health scare two years ago had made me fully aware of the bonus that each day was for us.
He had been my constant beloved companion since I met him when he was only a few months old. A companion who gave fresh insight to some of my favourite places, and led me to new places that we both loved very much.
I hadn’t intended to get another collie yet, but as I sit to start this account after Christmas 2013 the sitting-room floor is littered with toys and things to gnaw. Especially things to gnaw. In the hall is Bryn – a tired puppy, hopefully sleeping peacefully for a while, exhausted by his rapid growth from a small square baby to a gangly long-legged juvenile, and by the emergence of his new adult teeth.
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