EVERY time our kids see their dog, who’s been living with my mum for nearly four years, it’s like he’s back from the dead.
He went to live with her after my dad died and then weeks later she had to get her psychotic border collie put down after it went for her like the evil beast that it was.
The old girl needed some company and like the good man I am I gave her my only son – well, he was ‘til we got two tom cats this time last year.
Our faithful hound left us in the summer of 2007 while our house was turned upside down during a quick and efficient loft conversion – the thinking being his fragile lurcher nerves wouldn’t stand four weeks of hammering, sawing and builders expertly crawling around scaffolding like safari park chimps.
See the Lancaster Guardian (21-01-11) for full story.