As I said the other day, Tommy had to be put to sleep by the vets the other day.

Had a really crap day last Tuesday: all my camera kit was stolen from my office, I burned a tiny hole in our new carpets that had been laid the day before and then the coup de gras...

Just about to go to bed and I heard a walping sound from outside the front door. Opened the door. Tommy is sitting on the front path. I call him and he moves. Well the top half of him moves but his back legs are dragging along behind him. I grab him and bring him inside. I call Mia and get her to watch him while I run down the garden to get the dog carrier out of the shed. I'm convinced he's been hit by a car and probably has internal bleeding. He's always running back and forth across the road, so it's an obvious choice.

I put him in the basket and call the vet's emergency line. The woman on the other end tells me she'll meet me there in 20 minutes, i.e. 12 midnight. I'm ready to go, so rather than waste time I go. I'm there in 5 minutes. Wait around smoking and stroking Tommy through the bars.

The vet arrives and examines him. Says he actually has an embolism, or a blood clot which has lodged in the artery which serves the back legs. His feet are really cold. They go set up his hospital bed for the night and I sit with him for a minute, talking to him and calming him down. I'm almoist certain this is the last time I'll see him so I say my goodbyes without actually saying the words. He knows what I mean.

They are all set so I have to go and let them get on with their work.

Morning rolls around and I call them. He's okay but really we need to wait to see how he does and let the anticoagulents and sedation do their work. The doc says this is all because of a heart condition. There's no guarantees he wont throw another clot even after he gets over this one.

Call the following lunchtime. I'm in a bar in Bristol at a friend's leaving do. The docs voice is very grave. He says he's not happy about Tommy's condition. He'sbeen fine up to now, but now he's panting and obviously in total cardiovascular distress. What would I like to do?

I'd known this was coming. I also realise that it will have to be done now, while I'm sitting in this bar chatting, because I can't make him wait till I get home. We need to let him go.

I put the phone down and lean on the wall away from the table for several minutes and a wave of sadness washes over me. I excuse myself and go to the gents and compose myself for a few moments. I can't believe I'm going to do this, but I go back and act as if nothing has happened. Plenty of time for sadness and greif. This is a happy occasion,and I'm not going to spoil it with my sadness. But I feel bad for Tommy. He was among sympathetic people when he died, caring sensitive professionals. But a small knot in my gut tells me that what he really wanted when his time came was me and I couldn't be there.

I'm glad I decided to end his suffering. I'm glad his end was pretty quick. He got sick, went to hospital and got shot up with painkillers, then he died in his sleep. All done in 48 hours. But I regret very painfully that I wasn't there at the end.

But hey, he's gone and all I want to do now is commemorate him in some way. I think a little plaque in the garden or something. Not sure. Plenty of time for that when I've stopped feeling like I've buried an old friend.

So Tommy, here's to you, Tommy-tom-tom. Faithful friend, morning person, cold blooded killer of birds, field mice and baby bunnies, and grey faced observer of all my good times and bad times for over 10 years. Yes. Here's to you, old friend. Sleep well. Enjoy your rest. See you around. xxx