One of the sweetest memories I have is of sitting outside one morning, on the paved step by the back door, utterly sad (I don't remember why). Pepper, our family dog was there with me, as always. We had been told by the pound when we got her that she was a Rottweiler x German Shepherd, but she definitely wasn't. So I was sitting there, head in my hand, possibly crying, when Pepper walks up to me deliberately and rested her head on my shoulder. I hugged her back.
With everyone moving away from home as we got older, Mum started at looking into moving into town. She was scared to take Pepper because of how she didn't play nice with other animals. And when Pepper wanted to go after something, it could be pretty hard to hold her back: she was a big girl. So she gave Pepper away to a friend and farmer. It always made me feel bad, thinking about giving her away like that, like we'd - I'd - abandoned her. So I stopped talking about her, because it always left me feeling guilty. Then I got an email from Mum today - the people that had taken Pep in had had to get her put down because she was sick. Such a sweetie.