I will start with the basket. Your basket. Your place. Your space. We bought it for you when you were a puppy and thought you would never fill it. Six months later when we worried you would never stop growing it was tight. We had intended to throw it away as your chewing reduced the sides but it outlasted you.

The tough blue rubber Kong you found in the park when you were one is still here. We would joke that we were too mean to buy you toys and you had to make do with the ones you found. You would sleep happily with the Kong in your mouth breathing through the hole in its middle. You were Queen Kong for 13 years.

And so many balls. It was a rare walk to the park when you failed to find another ball and bring it home in triumph. We have boxes of these found treasures.

Your successors still use your bowls and blankets; a fine legacy.

When we moved house we found a jar of your hair that we had kept and presented it to Hunter who had known you in your last year. His tail drummed out a happy memory.