Hounslow

All my life I have owned dogs. I don't think there has ever been a time when I've been without one. The hard part about owning animals is facing the inevitable -they will die long before you do. Eleven years ago, I went to the pound to pick up a puppy. My dog of the day back then was Sheba, a black lab given to me and my brothers by my older sister Becky. Sheba was getting on in years and was no longer doing a very good job of keeping the property free of predators. The solution was obvious -add another dog. Hounslow was only 7 weeks old when we got him, all long legs and big paws, and as clumsy as all get out. We named him for a character from a British comedy. He wasn't a particularly bright dog, but made up for any shortcomings with his incredible enthusiasm for life. Last year I noticed that he was not doing so well, and off we went to the vet. Tests came back showing liver anomolies, but no clear diagnosis was ever made. Over the spring and summer months he lost weight, and it became obvious that we were going to lose him. Sadly, I had already booked my vacation; the best I could do was pray that he would still be there when I finally made it back home. I found out today that he is dead. I have been expecting the news for about a week now, but it has not made it any easier to bear. I will miss him deeply, and of course, as I am on the road, it will have to wait until I am home again before I can add a picture.