I still miss him now, of course. It's been six and a half years since he died, but I still miss him. Thinking about this comic has stirred up a lot of memories. Like the way he used to whine when he wanted to go out. Or the way he used to stretch first thing in the morning.
I could have made this comic a lot longer. I left out a few anecdotes, like the time he got into a fight, and came back with a bloody paw, or the times when he escaped. Once, he got out of our caravan in Devon and was lost for an hour. Somehow, he made his way back to us. Jesus, I was scared.
There's a part of me that's still so afraid that, if I let go of something, it'll never come back. I never really thought about it that way, before, but I think the way I felt about Hondle is definitive of the way I act around all the people I really care about. I never quite want to let go.
But, in reality, life isn't about the funny stories, or even the sad ones. It's about the day to day. The routine. The way he used to strain at my arm to get to his food. Or the way he used to lap at his watery milk. The car journeys where he'd be sick in the back (with me, of course).
People say, "why don't you get another dog?" But I couldn't. Hondle meant that much to me. He was more than just a pet. He was a part of me, growing up. I still enjoy being around dogs, of course, but it isn't the same.
I wish I'd made more of our time together. I wish I'd teased him less and hugged him more. I wish I had more photographs of the two of us. I wish we could have played together in the kitchen for a little bit longer.
I wish I could reach my hand down now and stroke the top of his head.
I don't know if I believe in Heaven. The scientist in me rejects it. The secular man I've become rejects it. But the little boy who misses his friend wonders if he'll be waiting for me at the end.
All in all, I think he was a happy dog. He certainly made me happy. My life hasn't been as much fun since he went away. But thanks to this comic, I get to dream about him a little more. And I get to ensure that his story lasts forever.
Not bad going for a little brown dog with bad breath and a bushy tail.
Thanks for reading.
								Matthew Craig, Telford, 2002.