At one point I was chatting online to a friend who lost her dog some time ago and couldn't stop myself from crying.
Everywhere I turn in this house, all of the routine things that I do, point out to me that he isn't here any more.
This was one of his favourite spots. He's actually guarding against cats. I'm afraid he really, really didn't like them. If one dared to venture into his territory, he went absolutely mental against that conservatory door until he was let out and then he'd charge down the garden to shoo it away.
The awful thing is that I can't get out of my mind the feeling of him dying in my arms. He died a week ago, he was a family member, and I know I shouldn't be too hard on myself. Am I sounding morbid? Eddy was just so lovely and I miss him terribly.