Where we walked.

The old fellow was the first dog with whom I’d found an understanding. I remember it well – sitting in the back garden in the middle of one’s labours, he came around, sat beside me and basically said “look, it’s TLC behind the flappers, OK?”, and that was the moment of breakthrough. When he departed, I took the photo of Ben Cruachan beyond the trees in his honour; every time I’ve passed that spot since, I remember the ol’ dog – with much fondness.