Prune is ten

You’re sitting next to me, sniffing the air, ears pricked up. Was there an untoward sound in the neighbourhood? You get up, stretch, ask to have your chin scratched. Then you sigh, groan and lie down, letting the late summer sun wash over your fur. Not too hot, not too cold. Perfect. You sigh again. Its just another day to you, but for us, its a big deal. You are 10. Happy Birthday, Prune. No one expected the last three years. But I don’t want to be soppy, you don’t approve of that. Instead, I found photos from each of the years you were with us, to share with everyone. Don’t worry, you look great in them all. You always do.

2011. Thats you when you first arrived, barely two years old, complete with scar under your eye,from those rabbit hunting days.

2012. Your first time at the seaside, cold November.

2013. One of our first trips to France, to the Loire Valley, probably one of your favourite places, and ours too.

2014. Enjoying the gentle Spring sunshine, in Belgium.

2015. Another trip to France, this time to Burgundy, amongst a sea of daffodils.

2016. That year. The year you barely made it through. This was soon after those October days, and you look as lovely as ever.

2017. Looking very dignified.

2018. Enjoying a ride in the car. You used to love that so much, jumping in with Suzi, rocked to sleep by hip-hop and the winding Norfolk roads.

2019. Finally, moved to Holland. You are celebrating your birthday in another new house, and enjoying another summer.

We all adore you Prune. You mean more to us than you’ll ever know. You make us laugh everyday, you listen to my worries, and you are always there, a steady rock in a turbulent sea. Thank you for putting up with us all these years, thank you for letting me cry into your thick fur when I needed to. Thank you for the licks and the paws and the snarls, for being my accomplice on crazy adventures. Here’s to many more.

Some things don’t change. You still hate being picked up.

Love you lots, Prune xx