Yesterday I made my way down to Bidford in North Devon with my wife Nikki and daughter Tasha for the funeral of a friend, Linda Lines of South West GSD Rescue.
It seems to be something of a trend these days to ask folks to turn up to funerals in various colours other than the traditional shirt and black tie, and one I usually politely ignore, although I don't begrudge the sentiment to anybody. I still have the red shoes I wore myself to Mum's funeral. And have worn them to so many wedding and party gigs since that I've worn through the soles and so need to get them repaired before I can wear them again; she'd have approved.
This time however the request to wear "something orange" was so apt, so very Linda, and the totem colour of the rescue she founded and ran, that I couldn't really refuse.
The service done, and beautifully done at that, we all gathered back at Paula's house. Paula was Lin's best friend and a trustee of the Rescue over the last few years. Aside from catching up with a few good friends, one of the pleasures in an otherwise sorrowful, bittersweet day was meeting Paula's four dogs. One of them was the affectionately loopy, irrepressible Lobo.
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