We got Mungo from a friend in Durban. When he was just 6wks old, he was crated, along with a 'sister' & flown up to us in Joburg. Hubs & I collected the crate from the cargo area & it was love at first sight. Mungo was at the front of the crate, bum going & all excited to see humans no doubt. That was the first of his many flights! He stayed with me & grandma in Joburg for a couple of years, then (due to circumstances) moved down to the Eastern Cape. From there, myself & Mungo joined Hubs in Kenya. We lived in a glorified garden shed way out in the bush & the 'puppy' had a field day. He chased goats & terrified the Japanese contractors & locals alike, but only by his appearance. We took long walks in the heat & dust & he would obediantly sit & wait for trucks to pass. We'd spend at least an hour each day with his stick, which would be any small branch available. I'd throw it, he'd fetch it & then we'd have a tug-of-war! He was spoilt by us & the other Saffies on site.

When the Kenya contract was up, Hubs was offered a job (on married status) in the Magic Kingdom. We made arrangements to go via London, which meant the Little Boy would have to go into quarantine, until we got his import papers into the Magic Kingdom. Hubs got his Iqama pretty quick & left after a couple of weeks. Grandma & myself moved into a flat in Northampton & went to visit the Little Boy in his quarantine kennel in Bedford. He HATED every single minute in that place. He destroyed everything, including a wooden kennel. It was heartbreaking. The kennel owners suggested I buy him an indestructable ball to play with, as he'd destroyed all the solid rubber things they'd given him. I got one & Mungo took up his own form of soccer in his cage. He would kick & push his ball around & around................until his tongue, nose & feet were bleeding. He was driving himself insane. Sadly, he was limited to an hour a day with his ball, but at least it kept him from going totally nuts. I had to follow Hubs out to the Magic Kingdom & I hated leaving both Mungo & grandma behind. We'd found out that NO Staffies or any of the bulldog or bull terrier family were allowed to be imported into the Kingdom.

Mungo did his 6mth sentence & then moved into a house with grandma. They were inseparable after that.

We bought the house in SA & shipped grandma & Mungo back. We hardly lived there as such, but flew in & out again after a few weeks holiday. The Little Boy had grandma & his ball, so he was well happy. It was only recently that we realised just how close those two had got........grandma had twin beds in her room - one for her, the other for Mungo. Every meal time was a ritual - grandma divided her meal into her part & Mungo's portion. He wouldn't eat his normal dog biscuits until he'd had his breakfast of a few branflakes in purposely left-over sugary milk. He sulked if grandma had to go out to the shops or the library. He got excited a few days before we went home on leave - he just seemed to 'know' we were coming home & he'd sink into the depths of depression about 2 days before we took off again. We thought about taking him to Malawi & Ghana with us, but decided against it, as he was a good deterrant for anyone with bad intentions near the house. I'd also sworn to him - stupid as it may seem - that I would never make him go through the debacle of being handled by idiotic, uncaring & downright ignorant African shipping agents.

Naturally, Mungo was fiercely protective over grandma. He was fascinated by the new addition to the family - a little baby! I'm sure he sensed that Chikkin belonged to Spadge & Shans............despite never having been in close association with a sprog before, he was as good as gold & incredibly understanding while little hands patted & poked him.

When I spoke of my concerns to a very good friend - about grandma's health & the possibility of bringing her here to live - she offered to adopt Mungo. Hubs & I spoke about it at length - weighed up the pros & cons time & time again. Grandma knew what our options were...........we either had to find our almost 10yr old puppy a new home, or we would have to have him euthanised. She told us that she would worry herself silly if he went to a new home - even though she knew & liked his prospective adoptive 'parents'. She knew in her heart that the Little Boy wouldn't be spoilt like she'd spoilt him & also worried that he would fret & pine for her, which meant that he would be unhappy & she just couldn't have that.

We never told grandma the decision we'd reached. Hubs & I got upset enough just thinking about it. I phoned our local vet & explained our situation.........I needed advice on what decision to make......if what we suspected was correct, that he probably wouldn't 'adopt' too well.

When Hubs & grandma left, grandma patted Mungo on the head & simply said "you be a good boy now" & gave him 2 chocolate biscuits, something she always did if ever she left the house.

I made the decision to take him to the vet myself, the morning after Hubs & grandma left. I cried when I woke up that morning. I cried when I put his collar & lead on, I cried when I walked him up to the vet, just a coupla hundred metres away & I'm crying now.

The vet was fantastic - compassionate & assuring. The Little Boy didn't particularly like being hoisted up onto the table on previous visits, so I got down on the floor & told him to come sit in my lap. I stroked him. I kissed him. I hugged him. I told him I was so sorry.......time & time again........I was so sorry.

He fell abyes in my lap..........he was peaceful..........almost as if he knew what was happening. I sobbed my heart out, just cradling the Little Boy, telling him over & over "I'm so sorry old son, I'm so sorry".

That evening, Hubs rang to say he & grandma were back in the apartment in Abu Dhabi. I didn't let him - or anyone - know when I was taking Mungo to the vet. Grandma came on the phone & the first thing she said was "Where's Mungo?" I just cracked up.........I couldn't help it. She told me I'd done the right thing, but it certainly didn't make me feel any better.

He's gone to fetch sticks & chase indestructable balls in Puppy Dog Heaven. I know he's OK.............I just know it.