I have been thinking about one of my dogs back home, Macky (aka Moo – he was Moo long before I met you, Michelle-Moo) quite a lot the last few days, in between my strange dreams about crows and the full moon and being tattooed with black feathers (and a sudden urge to read about old Goddesses and mythology) and carrying a sword.

And a few minutes ago, I found out why he had been on my mind. He passed away today, around 3pm. At the time I was walking my dogs I think and I felt a strange lethargy and I felt quite sad… but I put it down to low blood sugars and that afternoon drop.

My mum sent me a message and let me know and said that the vet (he’s been our vet for over 30 years – pretty much all our animals have gone to him) said that we had done all we could and that it was time for Macky to head over the rainbow bridge. Free from pain and fear (he was blind and mostly deaf and spent a lot of the time not knowing where he was or if he was alone or in company – so he would whine and pant and worry) and anxiety, and bouncing around like he used to in fields of green, chasing a soccer ball (his favourite toy) or sniffing things and swimming and playing and meeting other dogs and walking with them. He was the unofficial Greeter of the 10 ‘o’clock Strollers (a group of us who used to walk our dogs every morning around 1000, or much earlier, especially in summer) and he made sure that every new dog, and even returner Strollers, felt welcome and part of the family.

I will miss my little Moo a great deal – he was a very special dog. I know people say that of all their animals (and I know I say that of mine) but he was truly special. After the horrible start to life he had, his positive outlook on life and happy go lucky attitude never failed to make my heart warm.

He was around 14 years old (maybe older – we’re not sure as he was a rescue with a hard past, as I said) and he had a good long, happy run of life. It still hurts, obviously, but he filled his days with happiness and curiosity and love of life and it was kinda contagious.  Being around Macky was like being around joy on four legs with a curly floofy tail.  You couldn’t be unhappy when you were with the Moo.

He leaves behind one of his best friends, Mardi Gras, who took an instant shine to him the moment they met, and that was what made the decision about who we adopted after his previous beloved pack (Molly and Mishka) passed away. She will mourn. Like we will.

Farewell my handsome lad. My little Moo. My little Prince Mackintyre.