Ach, it’s too hard, lass

Ach, it’s too hard, lass.  It’s been 5 months now and every morning I wake up hoping it’s not true.  Then it is, and I don’t want to wake up ever again.  I just miss you too much.

You know, we spent most of our life in and around Edinburgh, but when I think back the only days I remember you being happy were when we were away from it.  I think that’s why I was the one who always wanted to move.  To make those days into weeks, months or years.

But it wasn’t to be.  The last email I sent you was a week before I was told you were going to die.  It had a list of houses for sale in Haddington and some links to reputable dog breeders.  Your dream that never came true.  Like all the rest of them.

Here you are in Peebles, where we had some happy days back before the surgeon crippled you.  The return visits after were awful.  But back then you always had a smile on your face when we stayed in Tweed Green.  My bestest.



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