It's three years today ...

since Harvey died. Or rather since we made the decision to take him to the vet. For months we'd been putting up with his loss of control over his back end, and helping him up steps and clearing up after him, but we'd agreed that he wasn't in pain and he seemed happy. His spirit was still there: we only had to touch his lead and he'd be struggling to his feet even though he could barely manage once very slowly around the edge of the paying field.

But inevitably the morning arrived when we came downstairs to find he could hardly lift his head and was struggling to breathe.
It was November before George came into our lives. A fitting period of mourning for the dog we loved so much. And George is, as it says in the sidebar, Harvey's great-great-great-great-nephew. Can you see the likeness? In some ways they're very alike; in others quite different. Both individuals who make a great impact on and difference to our lives.