the spirit of Max

After a long and slow decline, and a rapid turn for the worse this last few days, Max was put quietly to sleep today.

He was 15 and a bit. He loved being chased by other dogs but often couldn't find anyone to chase him so took up endlessly exploring the garden around the house. He hated water, men with flat hats, and any mention of any part of his anatomy. He was epileptic and needed treatment throughout his life. He wanted to learn but was incapable of instruction. So, having lived all his life here he has been buried next to a new walnut tree along side his best canine mates Cassie and Sophie.

Farewell, old friend.

flower by Harriet Edwards