We'll try to remember good times with our Fern

Yes, yes, a thousand times yes. It is only because of the years of pleasure and their unconditional love that it hurts so very much when they go. And, as we devoted, loving pet owners know, they go all too soon.

We have just lost our fifth dog in 18 years. And the emptiness is so painful, you can see why non-owners might think you'd never want to do it again.

They couldn't be more wrong.

If we'd followed that thought after Holly and Daisy, Dan and Sam died, we would never have had our Fern. Each prepares a place for others.

Another Springer Spaniel, Fern was the runt of her litter, a dear and special little dog who fellow householder Sally chose and named but who quietly crept into both our hearts.

She survived significant operations, we nearly lost her several times and are truly grateful for the extra years thanks to our vets. We hope she was also helped by the love, attention and care we gave her and her litter sister, Poppy who now also misses her.

They came to us just before Christmas 2000, and this summertime after a bout of worrying illness our Fern died quietly at a specialist vet's clinic to which we'd been referred to give her a better chance.

That we weren't with her and she wasn't at home broke our hearts. But we'd done what seemed right at the time.

Now we are in that limbo time of remembering her; wishing we'd taken a few more snaps of her with Poppy. And everywhere we look in our woodland acre on a hillside, we see Fern sitting like the king of the castle, watching us gardening from one of her many vantage points.

We remember favourite walking spots, Bala Lake where we had a holiday place and which the girls thought was an extended playground. We remember everything we did to keep them happy and secure.

So the years have flown and now it is goodbye, God bless, to our dear Fern.

Such happy memories, such joys and sorrows and such a painful, massive gap in our lives.

Only a dog? Oh no. Not in our world!