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At the age of 8 I left the dog shelter with an alleged black Labrador pup, within a few months Mack had grown into a proud looking greyhound with a border-collie twist, defeating the dreaded parvovirus along the way. Mack stayed with me until the age of 24, and looking back now at the grand old age of 25 my memories are still tinged with melancholy, I had no idea then and still cannot really comprehend just how much that original ball of overactive black fluff would mean to me.

In the early days he was a fantastic ally, whenever I did something wrong he'd better it; three piece suites, a coconut plant (ravaged on top of a brand new carpet that never recovered), a coffee table and a previously award winning garden can all pay testament to his destructive prowess. That dog made me look like a saint. It wasn't all plain sailing though, when I was young Mack definitely saw himself as my boss. My main sacrifice being my comfortably chubby body in favor of something a little more svelte as he took me for numerous walks. His blatant disregard for my authority was incredible when I called his name he seemed to think that that meant to look for something interesting to do. This characteristic did have one upside however, if he ever perceived any kind of threat to me, he'd come bounding back to my aide, which once saved me from a beating and a stolen bike at the hands of some kids bigger than I. As we grew older our relationship changed and when I hit my teenage years Mack finally showed me some respect. We became somewhat inseparable, with the exception of school I took my dog just about everywhere, when I played out with my friends Mack came along and became part of the gang in his own right.

When I was 15 my parents' marriage broke down. I don't see this is a bad thing; my mother ran a restaurant and therefore worked a lot, and when my father wasn't being an architect he drank. During this period Mack proved to be great tower of strength, providing a great excuse whenever I wanted to get out of the house to escape the arguments and providing a kindly ear and plenty of attention whenever I felt lonely. When my father moved out it had been decided that it was best to do so when I was not there. No problems I thought, although my mother I had never forgiven the dog for that coconut plant and affiliated carpet so when I arrived home to found out which televisions etc had gone I also found that my Mack wasn't there either. The next couple of months were horrible; I missed

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