Gyp arrived, unplanned, in 1990. I don't believe in pets, but he needed a place to stay.
Nobody owned him, he just lived here and I liked having him around.
He left again in the evening of 11 December 2000, his own dog to the last. Insisting on a final walk in the park, despite my efforts to talk him out of it, he dropped in his tracks as I'm sure he would have wanted. For him, if not for us, the vet half an hour later was an irrelevance. And he's still here in spirit.
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