Yesterday I lost my great shambolic friend Trevor. It’s hard to say goodbye to him without tears but it’s hard to remember him without a smile.
I miss his morning beanbag stretch and his joyous we’re-about-to-go-for-a-walk gambol. I miss his twisty head as he grappled with the English language. I miss his quiet companionship during late nights and early mornings in the study. I miss his loathing of the dog across the road and of all possum-kind. I miss our mutual addiction to raw carrots. I miss his hairy winters and his chic summers.
I miss him rolling around in the grass in the sun. I miss his dopey big grin and his curly-tongued yawn. I miss him coming around for a reassuring pat in the middle of the night. I miss his sacred places (all of them). I miss him lying in doorways. I miss him chasing his tail and howling at the phone. I miss him tearing up toilet-rolls and newspapers. I miss his love of water and his tolerance of gardening.
There’s nothing philosophical in all this - I just miss my friend in a way that is wholly appropriate to the happiness he brought to my life.
