Er, wasn't going to do this but I'm a bit drunk now so here goes nothing...
The other half and I have been meaning to get a dog for about 2 years now but every so often I get cold feet as I feel it would be like replacing Charlie, the best dog of all time.
I know it sounds daft but I was nine years old when my parents took me to my older cousin's house to choose one of his sheepdog bitches litter of puppies. I fell in love with Charlie immediately, he was a rascal, a border collie with a black and white face and an evil glint in his eye. He ran myself and my elder sisters ragged for years, there was no training this dog. Leave the back door open? Vamoosh - he'd peg it over the fence and into the adjoining park. Take him off his lead? Vamoosh, he'd leg it down the brook and onto the canal towpath where he would stay until he got hungry before finally toddling off back home. He was untameable (if that word exists!) but he was my best mate and I spent my teen years chasing that bloody dog all over our local area. He diddn't age well though, he developed arthritis and became very melancholy in his final months so we all agreed it was time to end him. The poor dog was struggling to even sit down on his hind legs, doing this pathetic pirouette thing before he could lie down and I held his paw as the vet administered the lethal dose of morphine and felt the life ebb out of him. I fucking well loved Charlie and I still think about him. He was and is irreplaceable which is why I'm reluctant to get a new dog.
Sorry for this essay, I just wanted to write about my best mate of all time, Charlie.