During my stories I tend to omit the names of my pets. This is my way of maintaining a modicum of anonymity in a world where that is disappearing. In real life I also refer to my pets by their species, so this is not just an online occurrence.
But this time is different.
This time I would like to take the time to remember Nelson and Silver.
Nelson and Silver have starred in one story (so far) called, A Bone-nanza Christmas.
In the last two years my family was unfortunate enough to loose both of our lovable dogs. Silver, the younger, on 23/01/2017. Nelson, the elder, on 08/02/2018.
Some might think it odd that a younger animal would pass first, however Silver had numerous genetic faults (over sized ears, undershot lower jaw, too long tongue, white marking on his chest) that also included a heart murmur. The vet said he would only live a few years. He lived just short of 11 years.
He did not have the same smarts as our previous dogs. The selection of genetic faults also seemed to give him learning difficulties, which is not to say he wasn’t intelligent, he just didn’t think in the same way as most dogs. But with care and patience he learned to come when called (most of the time), he could sit, he could lie down, he could roll over (just), he would play fetch and most of all he tried his best. 
Silver had a favourite ‘trick’ when out on walks, which was to find the biggest log, ask someone to lift him onto it if needed (he couldn’t jump very high) and strut up and down like he owned the place.
Silver was cheeky and charming and often got the attention of the neighbours kids, who would ask for him come out and play! Nelson was obviously included.
Although he wasn’t always the most cheerful of dogs, often having grumpy days where he just wanted to mope, Silver always welcomed a cuddle.
And of course he couldn’t live without Nelson by his side. From the day he entered our lives he became attached to Nelson and had to go where ever he did.
For a time dad would go for early morning runs around the lanes, and he always offered the dogs a chance to run with him. Silver quickly discovered that if he was too lazy to get out of bed he got left behind. As soon as Nelson left Silver would pace through the house squealing for his pal, waking both myself and mum up. So much for a lie-in!
Silver wasn’t brave, or quick, and he didn’t have the best conformation. But he was loyal, lovable and a ready for an adventure. He loved us and we loved him.
Silver had a knack of finding things and bringing them to us with a chuffed look.
He was fabulous at finding the most disgusting or strange things – and eating them too!
He rolled in all the poo he could find.
He was great at catching rabbits.
He was so scared of cows he would make a half mile detour around a herd in order to get to the other side.
He was always ready for a nap.
Silver was a wonderful dog and loving companion. We were his pack, his family, and he will live forever in our hearts.
When Silver left us, it was unexpected. A simple surgery triggered an underlying condition that he was unable to fight.
I only regret I was unable to see him in the final month of his life, as I was away from home. But I have been told that the relief in his final breath was a reassurance that he had left the pain behind. 
When we got Nelson we already had another dog, Morda. He was an amazing member of our family whom we all miss dearly. But as his life came to an end, Nelson entered our lives ready to continue to take care of us where Morda could not.
Nelson come to us small and adorable as all puppies are.
Nelson was the smartest dog I have ever known. He knew everyone inside and out. He understood our emotions and how to communicate with us.
While I was in school and exams were looming, the last thing I wanted to do was revise. But with Nelson on my lap and a book in front of us, I would read to him and Nelson would listen. In this way he helped me pass many exams.
He loved to run and even more so he loved to swim.
When taken to a river he would find a place that was fast flowing, and just to challenge himself, would leap in and paddle as fast and hard as his legs could manage to the other bank. For us watching it was scary, but to him it was thrilling.
It didn’t matter what the weather was like, he was always ready to go on an adventure. The slightest indication from any of us that we were going somewhere and Nelson would be by our side, ready to join us every step of the way.
When snow arrived he was my dearest companion, spending the entire day out with me and my friends, playing in the snow.
Athletic and quick, Nelson was nimble and light on his feet.
Once, going for a ride with my friend on two borrowed horses, Nelson of course had to join us. When we chose to go for a gallop we expected to leave Nelson far behind. But no. Excited squeaks that made him sound like a rusted wheelbarrow followed us all the way. Even his little legs were able to keep up with horses going flat out!
Anything we asked of Nelson he would try his best to achieve. He trusted us implicitly and would do anything asked of him. Even putting him in uncertain situations did not phase him, as Nelson trusted that he would be cared for at all times.
Nelson was unaffected by the loss of Silver. He had always been a very independent dog, so life for him continued as normal.
However, Nelson had been visibly aging for about 5 years. Everyone was on edge waiting for the day when his age would be too much. But year on year he remained. Still smart and quick. Still energetic and willing. Still faithful and loving. Even as his hearing failed and his sight faded, he continued to thrive.
Heading into his 17th year Nelson enjoyed an energetic walk on the beach, sprinting across the sands with me and my friend.
Three days later his body began to fail him. Nausea and weakness overwhelmed him, though he tried to keep going the way he always did.
Only 6 days after his fun filled walk we had to decide what was best.
He couldn’t move, he couldn’t sleep, he couldn’t eat or drink. He was trapped in a body that was rapidly failing.
He left our home as he arrived, wrapped in a blanket on my lap.
No more greeting at the door
No more playing on the floor
No more hogging of my bed
Shh or mum will have our head.
No more swimming everywhere
No more wind blows through your hair
No more walks for miles and miles
Well maybe for a little whiles.
No more chasing silly birds
No more running with the herd
No more helping me to learn
Making music we do yearn.
No more pet
Brother
Friend.
I love you still
Beyond the end.
These two little dogs will never be forgotten. The lives we have lived with them will always remain. Nelson and Silver saw my progress from child to teenager to adult, and without them I’m sure I would be very different.
I miss them so, so much. But nothing can bring them back. Instead Nelson and Silver – and Morda and all other pets – will live on through our memories, never forgotten.
