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It was just after I posted my last blog entry that I found out that Honey had been put down. Ever since it was decided that Mum and Mommy would be following Gareth, my stepfather, to England, there was much debate as to what would happen to her when they left.

There was talk of leaving her with Philip and his family in East London. My sister wanted to keep her, at home, in Port Elizabeth. I was even asked if I could take her to Johannesburg. But in the end, we all had to be honest and admit to ourselves that any other decision would be selfish and unfair to our faithful and devoted family member. Truthfully, she was not getting any younger. She had a heart condition and was prone to having seizures. She was also in a lot of pain. To uproot the life she had known, where she always had someone with her day and night, and make her endure the chaos and confusion that ensued after the two most important people in her life had left, would be totally unreasonable.

So, it was with much sadness that we agreed, in Honey’s best interests, to put her down.

I cried, after I read the news on Facebook. Dynamite comes in small packages. And there was none more explosive than Honey. With her obsessions over food and balls, to the need to be wrapped up like a child at night, we all will have our fond memories of her. The one that I have now, is that she is back with Dad, who passed away in 2006. Together again, after years apart. They will forever be missed.

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