Best to be tough.  Because if I started howling I wouldn't stop. 
So I started with the clearout as soon as we dropped him off at the vet's for the last time. Bob next door helped me carry him out. He was dead on the kitchen floor you see.

His bed and blankets were the first to go.  He liked that bed, and used to bury toys and old bones in it.  Which is why his old santa toy and a couple of old bones fell out as I was putting it in the bin. I'm tough.  I can do this.  

And while I was out in the back yard  I binned his old deflated football and mashed up tennis ball collection.  He liked to pester me with those on the rare times I was gardening. He had his own priorities. He usually won.  Because he was actually the boss.











I even remembered to dig up a chewy he'd buried just the day before.  Wally and I watched him bury it behind the tree.  We were laughing because for once he didn't want his 11am chewy, and was saving it for later. We never knew it was because his kidneys were failing.

Back in the house I was ruthless with the big cushion he slept on the hall landing.  And toys he had buried under it. He was a collie, a working dog, he was neat. He kept his toys buried or hidden or lined up ready for use. It's all in the bin. Can't face the prolonged goodbye of recycling.











 His leads. Not that we used them. Ned was a dog who always came when called. Always.  And he walked to heel.. See the dog just waiting outside the newsagents?  No lead? Not tied? That was Ned. The leads are binned.




















His pills - he was on 360mg epiphen a day.  It was the drugs that did for his kidneys. Binned along with a carrier bag of pigs ears and filled bones- I'd just bought a new supply last week from our fabourite pet shop thrugh in Milngavie.












New tennis balls?  Because on his morning walk he chased balls I hit with my tennis racket. Binned along with the tennis racket.  And the dog walking shoes and the poop scoop and plastic bag collection. Because there will be no more morning walks.






So no need for the new frisbee that he loved, or my old rucksack (I'm on a roll now), or the dogwalking jacket.

I found his squeaky duck toy found behind a sofa Have I mentioned yet how each of his toys had a name? He would be able to identify and bring ducky, chicken, ball, kong, football..They are all gone. They are all in the bin. Along with-
The tinned food
The dental sticks
The dry dog food
Both the old chipped food bowl and the new jazzy water bowl
The hairbrush he hated
His old towel - it's still got the mud stains from Friday...

Binned.  Binned the lot of it.

Thought I'd done it all.  Thought it was covered and I have griefproofed my house.  Then this morning I spotted two toys I'd missed. Hidden at the bottom of the bed.  Lined up perfectly.


And no amount of Bachs Flower Remedy is going to cure this one.