Thursday, May 06, 2010
13 good years
On Tuesday we said good-bye to our old dog for the last time. Isla was 13, not a bad age for a labrador, but she had slowed down a lot over the last couple of years and was almost blind. All so different from her first 10 years or so, when she would walk miles and miles with me along the Ayrshire coast, day after day, and we thought she would never calm down. When we moved to our current house she loved walking on the moor, sniffing the smells of the wildlife, and eating the horse and rabbit poo. Her love of food stayed with her to the very end - she never lost that.
We often said she was the friendliest dog in the world. It took her years to learn how to bark, and throughout her life she didn't once show any signs of aggression towards anyone or anything.
Ali took her to the vet on Tuesday afternoon - she was strong, it was the right thing to do - and when I came home from work there was a dog missing. The house feels strange without her.
Last night I was in Troon and ran along many of the streets and pavements where we used to walk. It just seemed like an appropriate thing to do.