Woody was our first baby.

I found him cowering in the corner of an awful pet store and his whole life was a reflection of that escape. He lived every day as if he had been saved. He had more personality, energy and endless zest for life than any dog -or person- I have ever known.

He changed the lives of everyone he met. Every single person we know has a Woody story to tell. He just had so much that was special about him. He was the greatest dog I could ever have wished for and my best friend in the world.

He was beautiful. Silver and shining. I have never seen a more handsome dog.

He loved stealing food and chasing cats. He loved his family. He loved his friends. He loved taking care of us. He loved looking after us when we were sad. He loved the park. He loved to run. He loved to have fun and make us laugh. He'd loved to rub his face on the floor when it was wet. But most of all he loved Emma, my wife. He died in her arms.

Almost 16 years old and so tired but still wilful, unique and full of life behind his perfect amber eyes. He just couldn't be the dog he was anymore. His body couldn't keep up.

I am so proud of how genuinely remarkable he was. I miss him so much. I loved him and will love him forever. Woody. Woody woodster. Pooches. I love you, silver boy. Please forgive me for not being able to save you. You were such a good boy. The best boy.

Thank you for changing my life. Thank you for everything. You will never, ever be forgotten.