On Christmas Eve, around 9:30 am, Bonnie died. Fit, excitable, and her usual puppy-like self until her last day, she was taken without warning by a sudden liver failure; and by the end of the morning, we’d buried her in the Cliffes’ garden, along with her unopened Christmas present from Sam. Since then it’s been a hard time, and Christmas was – as you can imagine – a rather sad period.

From the moment I met her 3 and a half years ago (when Sam and I first started going out) to the day before she died, she was a source of constant happiness and laughter for me and everyone around her. She was also responsible for turning me from someone not-at-all fussed about dogs into a real dog-lover, which I consider to be a pretty remarkable achievement for such a furry little thing.

I miss you, Bonnie.