Photo by Carlos Fernando Bendfeldt on Unsplash
So this week, I've been writing about my friend's dad, Bob. He was an amazing guy, but this is my absolute favourite thing about him.
I'm a dog person, and Bob had a beautiful black labrador called Bruce. As you'd expect of a lab, he was incredibly friendly, very laid back, just happy to be involved as we all did our thing.
But Bruce was getting on a bit. You could see it in his muzzle, his movements were getting slower, there was a tiredness in his eyes.
Bob knew Bruce's time was coming to an end. So he set out to look for a new dog for the family. He wanted another black lab. They were his favourite. He set out on the search for one.
One day, I turned up at Bill's house, to be greeted by a brand new black labrador. Obviously not Bruce, as this one was a youngster. Full of energy, excited by everything.
"Wow - new dog. What's his name?" I asked, very excited myself, as I love dogs.
"Bruce" came the reply from the kitchen.
"Yes, that was his name when we got him and I didn't want to change it".
So Bob ended up with two black labradors, both called Bruce. Anyone would think he was set in his ways.