A Tribute To My Fabulous Willy

I will resist the temptation to unleash any more knob gags. If you haven't been keeping up with recent news events, the eponymous Willy is none other than Crufts' Best In Show. But this is not about that overly-coiffured canine, this is a week of remembrance for the loss of our family dog, Brammy. His brother, Timmy, is thankfully still going strong, but he's not stupid. Getting him to the vets for a check-up was an ordeal. He made such a fuss, we couldn't get him through the front door.

He knows.

Sitting at work, as Mr Fuckley fumbles his way to the counter with his armfuls of wine, his horrifically stained shirt tucked into his greying y-fronts; my preconceived notion, that dogs are more fun to be around than people, is firmly reinforced. Yes, they may bring on bouts of convulsive sneezing, but then so do excessively frangranced humans; and that bloke with the fungus fingernails & the Advocat beard, who also brings with him an ability to make the strongest stomachs spontaneously release their contents.

So, raise a glass to the lickiest, silliest, friendliest, laziest & most missed dog in the world:

Bramwell Smith 1999-2007.