If we're talking about memories and departed pets then inevitably I think of Murdo. He was a Scottish Deerhound, an exceptional character and the last family pet that we had. Once he died my parents decided to not have any other pets. Partly for convenience, but mostly because they felt that they could not replace him. It would have felt disloyal. He lived a long and happy life, 12 years which is exceptional for a dog of his size. I helped dig his grave in a high patch in the garden, near where a patch of Rosebay Willowherb grows.
We were later informed that there is a Donkey buried on the same spot, though somewhat deeper. We didn't find it.
My cousin Gail has unearthed a drawing I did of Murdo for my grandmother. I was maybe 16 years old at the time?
This one has the virtue of being drawn while he was still alive.
Oh and the object of this whole exercise is to help my friend Amy
fund her documentary entitled 'Furever' which is about the way we deal with the loss of pets. It's quite fascinating and a little weird...ok very weird. Help her out, it's a great project.
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