For
L
AST month I lost my best friend.
My bestest best friend. Not the
friend who talks behind your back
or secretly criticises an outfi t you
wear or avidly monitors your
weight fl uctuations. This was
my very bestest friend.
There was nothing about
me that she didn’t love.
I must admit though she did
have a tendency to give me
a disparaging look when
the treats were doled out...
she had a pretty high
treat ration expectation
which she obviously
regularly felt I failed to
reach...but she always
forgave me by the
time the next treat
time came around.
My mind is so full of
memories clamouring
and colliding with
one another to tumble
out that it leaves little
room for anything else.
At the moment the
memories are hard to
sort as they are so sharp
with sadness but in time
I know they will settle
and fi nd the soft focus
needed for remembering.
Of course it will be
impossible to ever forget
her signature wiggle. I’ve
never seen anything to
match it before and probably
never will again. Anyone
she met in her younger years
would be greeted by a wiggle
that involved her whole back end
moving as though articulated and
no-one, no matter how grumpy, could
help but smile at her enthusiasm.
There’s the picture that pops up of her
as she reluctantly traipsed along behind her
previous partner in crime (who we lost several
years ago...but that’s a whole other heartache) on
morning boundary patrol and you just knew she
was thinking...I’m only doing this because you seem to
think it’s our job...it is nearly time for breakfast after all.
She found going for walks highly overrated...as was
in fact any form of exercise...a girl after my own heart.
60 | AUGUST 2017