Heartbroken, to Say the Least
Well, what a start to this week. We lost our little Jack. Jack had been with us for a little over thirteen years, and I'm struggling to write that in the past tense, if I'm honest with you. He'd been off colour and had a runny eye for a few days, though truth be told he'd been slowing down for the best part of a year now. Even so, "slow" was never really a word that belonged anywhere near Jack. Once he'd got his little paws properly under the table as a pup, everything after that was lived at a hundred miles an hour, and it stayed that way for a lot longer than his age had any right to allow. He was always there, whatever I was doing, and just as often there when I wasn't doing anything at all, simply because that's where he wanted to be. He'd get right under my feet more times than I could count, tripping me up as I tried to get from one side of the kitchen to the other, and I never once managed to answer the front door at a normal speed, b...
