Losing your furbaby Stories

Twelve years. I count myself rather lucky to have found you to have chosen you to have been chosen by you to watch you grow and live. twelve years of headbutts and three a.m. zoomies and little paw pats for attention. Twelve years of watching the "ghost flies" and love nips and not playing with your toys but loving shiny chains. Twelve years of tuna water but never tuna fish and egg yolk off my fingers and sandpaper kisse...

When we got him as a puppy, he was angry and afraid – a little mutt with attitude that didn’t make the grade. He wasn’t born with papers, didn’t have a pedigree,refused to follow orders – wouldn’t go outside to pee. Rescued from the system – being passed from hand to handhe needed a forever home – a final place to land. It took some time to settle in – to learn his way around,to revel in the comfort of the loving home he’...