Gently it's touch awoke him once,
At home, whispering of fields half-sown.
(from 'Futility' by Wilfred Owen)
But sadly the sun won't have the same effect now, as yesterday our beautiful boy, Tinker, let us know that he was ready to leave us.
So he did.
Although he didn't quite make it to his 18 birthday we felt honoured that he had enriched our lives for as long as he could.
He will be buried wrapped in an old London marathon fleece (I can't remember which year this is from), alongside his best mate Barney. They both used to fight over who would sleep on my fleece but mostly they snuggled together on it.
This was his last sunset.
He will be missed.