My favourite wee fluffy friend passed away last week. He'd been ill off and on for a little while and finally we found out that it was incurable. He'd just had his twelfth birthday last month, so he was a pretty old man in dog years, but he still liked to behave like a puppy, especially when his favourite squeaky toys came out. He really belonged to Tam and his mum, but I like to think I won him around in the two years I knew him with an abundance of hugs and biscuits. Mostly the biscuits, let's be honest. He would do any number of tricks if he knew there was a Markies in it as a reward.
He always had a knack of avoiding the camera, but Tam managed to catch us chilling out in the garden in Orkney in the lovely sunshine. I think he liked it there.