Sadly, the poorly hairy bear dog I was due to sit this weekend took a turn for the worse and had to be slept.  I know his owners will be feeling pretty awful right now and there isn’t much I can say to them at this time.  He was a big softy of a dog and I will always remember how he used to enjoy giving my Crocs a good wash, whenever my feet were in them!  In Summers gone by we’d sit out in the garden under the tree, me with a cold drink and the hairy bear dog with his ice-cubes.  Whenever I took him for a walk he drew people to him, they couldn’t resist giving him a cuddle and making a fuss of him, he enjoyed the attention.  He loved water and made the most of any opportunity to have a wallow in it, even if it meant towing me into the sea after him!  He would patiently allow me to groom his thick coat but after a while he would have to have a lie down though he would obligingly roll over so I could brush his other side and on windy days great fur mots sometimes escaped from my grasp and could be seen tumbling across the garden.  He was a lovely dog and I will miss him.

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