I had a good long walk at Bushy Park yesterday having a wee cry about Pepper (again) remembering all the times we did that walk together come rain or shine. Near the end I met a man sitting on a bench with his gorgeous long-haired Jack Russell Terrier puppy snuffling in the nearby grass. She was fourteen weeks old and an absolute charmer. The man and I chatted about dogs for a few minutes and then he asked me if I had any. “We lost our Norwich Terrier in November,” I said, “he was nearly fifteen!”
“That’s really hard,” he said, “but here’s my advice. Give yourself a year [to grieve], travel abroad somewhere (not hard for me) then come back and get another dog.” Simple wisdom.