Naxos..........

Yesterday was quite a day. What I didn't mention until my son had finished his very important presentation which is part of his dissertation today, was that yesterday morning, my sister's beloved dog, Naxos, died. The family was, and is, distraught. Naxos was not just a dog. He was their boy. And there has never been a tossed away and forgotten dog quite like him.

That was how his life began, you see. But it didn't end that way. Oh no.

He was rescued from a beach on the island of Naxos in Greece 15 years ago, where he had been foraging on the sands, looking for anything to eat. Old tissues were a staple. And then dreams beyond his wildest imaginings came true, and he was rescued. And spent the rest of his life living like prince. In Switzerland. He had a family and they adored him. A huge garden to play in, and plenty of love and attention. He rode chair lifts, and cablecars. He had mountains to romp over, streams to splash in, snow to roll in, and parents who thought he was the absolute best doggie in the world. Not to mention the fact that his Daddy would cook him special meals at times. How many rescued dogs end up with their own personal chefs? Naxos did.

He hated fireworks, loved treats, loved eating toilet rolls, loved Hugo his bear, loved eating rubbish - actually tearing open the bags after opening the door and spreading the contents over the floor, growling at his aunt (moi)(Because I once trod on his tail more than a decade ago - he had a memory like an elephant), and hated being brushed.

But most of all, he loved his Daddy. Adored him.

Missy thought he was wonderful too and loved trying to get him to bark. Mum adored him. Marge and Peter........ well, this is a really hard time for them. Love is a powerful thing. And believe me, Naxos was loved. But better, always, to love with all your heart, and then face the heartbreak than to never risk loving at all.

Pets are very special. And then there are some who are more than just a pet. Like Nax. They are part of the family - an very important part. Actually, Nax always made sure we remembered that it was HIS house. HIS couch. HIS Mummy. HIS Daddy. But he was happy to share. Well, there was always a race to see who got to the couch first, actually. He would prostrate himself over the couch I always sat on as soon as I entered the room. Hilarious. He and Jean also did battle for the right to sit in the sun. He got tangled in her knitting more than once in an effort to hog the sun, and there was much laughter as he was chased while trying to hold the knitting and grab the wool from round his feet.

He died surrounded by the people who he loved, and so, so much love.

Their home feels empty right now. Quiet.

And it hurts.

So, you can see why yesterday really was a day I would rather not have to repeat. Ever. My doggie nephew was special. He has left a hole in quite a few hearts. Like mine.

(David says his presentation was "OK", by the way. Ok sounds just fine. And I dragged myself out the door to a rehearsal last night. Distraction was good. )