2. By early afternoon, the cats still aren’t sure of her but seem to have decided she’s not a threat. They keep watching but not obsessively so and blinking all the while.

3. I spend the afternoon stretched out on the floor in front of the stove, listening to Joanna Newsome. The dog and cats take it in turns to lie across the newspaper and when they do, I stare out of the window at the bare branches silhouetted against the brilliant blue sky.

4. She takes the blue rubber bone from me and carries it to her bed. She puts it down matter-of-factly at one end and looks at me with disdain: “the blue bone is clearly for later, mum, clearly”.

5. Tom arrives at bedtime and as I lead him through the porch, I explain that Lily can be nervous around new people so let her come to him rather than crowding her. Or rather I start to explain because before I can finish, she’s launched herself at him, tail wagging, the happiest, most welcoming dog in the world.

In light of my very sad last post, this seems a little “neeeeeeeext!” but we’d actually started the adoption process before Carbon died (we had just got back from getting a vet reference when we found him) and we thought it would be unfair to Lily to leave her at the shelter for longer than necessary.

We’ve casually wanted a dog for ages but last November, we decided we should actually get one rather than just pining after one indefinitely. Since then, we’ve been on the look out for the perfect pup for us – ie, one that’s great with cats. No particular breed preferences, not bothered about it being a boy or a girl, and no preferences over a puppy or older dog (although ideally we’d like one under 5) – just good with cats. Given most rescue dogs don’t have a known history, known cat-friendly dogs are pretty thin on the ground. I’d bookmarked pretty much ever shelter in the M62 corridor and probably melted their servers with my frequent visits.

Lily is from the Dogs Trust in Liverpool. We went over there last weekend to meet another dog mentioned on the site – a lab cross – on the way to see my mum & dad. The lovely people at the shelter didn’t think the other dog would be suitable with cats after all – but have you seen this old girl? We talked to Lil in her kennel for a few minutes – when her whiny cone-headed cellmate Ben let us get a word in – then took her for a walk. By the time we got back to the reception, we were smitten – and if we weren’t, she then did a meerkat thing which sealed the deal. She’d previously lived with two cats so they were pretty confident she’d be ok with them but did a cat test (imagine a cat being poked into a room on a big stick – it’s nothing like that but it’s a funny image) anyway – she passed with flying colours, barely even acknowledging its existence.

We picked her up this morning. Her file said she was terrified riding in cars but as soon as she jumped in the boot of ours, she sat down quietly and curled up for the journey home (these photos were taken mid-M62). As soon as we stopped the car, she stood up, tailing waggy, ready to start her new adventure! We took her inside, introduced her to the scared but curious cats (they’ll come around, she was brilliant) then had some lunch – while we were eating our sandwiches, she sat quietly on the floor then as soon as we were finished, jumped on the sofa between us and curled up in a ball. Home.

At nine, she’s a little older than we’d anticipated but my, she’s a sprightly nine year old. We couldn’t have handled her when she was younger – she pulled me all over the place on our first walk this afternoon – including into the beck! Springer spaniels live on average for 12-15 years so we might not have her *that* long but she has many advantages being older – she knows how to be a dog which is very useful for us first time dog owners. I’m sure we’ll have lots of fun together.

Yesterday, we returned from the office on a high – it had been a good day and on the way back, we’d popped into the vets to get a reference for something very exciting set to happen this weekend. It was to be a happy pet week. Carla & Boron greeted us at the door as usual and we pottered around with them for a couple of minutes before I went to find Carbon – see where that lazy bones was.

He was on the bed. When I stepped into the bedroom doorway he meowed at me – like he often does to say hello when he can’t be bothered moving, and I called him lazy. His second meow told me something was wrong. He tried to get up to walk across the bed but his back legs weren’t working. I screamed for John and we both watched as Carbon tried but failed to walk again.

We rushed him to the vets and were seen straight away. With no pulse in his legs or feeling in his toes, and a new heart murmur, the vet diagnosed a thrombosis. Her colleague agreed. The heart problem would probably have been developing for a while but the onset of the last clot would have been sudden. Treatment options are incredibly limited and will most likely fail, just prolonging his pain so instead, we had to say goodbye.

Carbon was an awesome cat. Truly great. We – him, Carla & me – had our ten year anniversary together last June and while he was nervous with strangers, he’s always been happy and loving with me, and later with John.

1. He had the longest nose of any cat I’d ever met. We used to joke he took after his prominently proboscised dad. We used to call him Mr Long Nose. We used to call him a lot of things: Carbs, Carbon-cat, Carby, Carby-Carb-Carb, Carbo’, Carbonara, C, Crabon, Crabs, Scabbles, Chief, Mr Fang, Mr Whiny, Senor Whinestein, Obi-Whine Kenobi, Whine-akin Skypurrer, the Moose, Giant-o, Cougar… He also had the palest lemon eyes and the silkiest tail of any cat ever. His ears were slightly rounded at the top too – I could recognise him just from the tips.

2. When I first met him, he was asleep on top of his sister in their RSPCA cage. We thought they were just one giant cat until a second nose and pair of ears appeared. I remember that first meeting very clearly and how, just a few hours later, we took them home.

3. He wasn’t a great hunter – he once caught a misc brown bird in Liverpool (I told him he couldn’t bring it inside because it wouldn’t match the colour scheme) and he also “caught” a magpie in Leeds – “caught” because the magpie was surprisingly well intact for an angry bird and an inept hunter — we think it probably froze to death and he found it. He was so proud that he’d found it.

4. He was a greedy little guy and his most favourite thing was cooked ox heart. He had it regularly in Liverpool but it wasn’t as easy to find over here so it was a rare treat. We got them some at Morrisons the other day though – they had some raw then I slow roasted the rest and they all LOVED it.

5. Alongside eating, his other trademark was his whine (hence the whine-themed nicknames). He worked out the acoustically optimum place for his whining in the house – usually the bottom of the stairs – and whiiiiiiiiiiined. It was usually a locating device (to hear where we responded from) but in the morning, it was also a “get up and feeeeeeeed meeeee” whine.

6. Carbon was my best friend in the morning because I always gave him the dregs of my cereal milk. It was our little ritual and whenever I ate cereal out of the house (such as in the car on the way to the office), I always left the dregs before remembering he wasn’t there to drink them.

7. While waiting for the milk and at other times when he wanted a hug, he was the cat most likely to stomp all over my keyboard. Just the other day, he managed to do some unknown key combination to transfer all my email from one account into the inbox of another account but he usually just tried to turn on Caret Browsing (F7), loaded Mozilla Help (F1) or tried to prnt scrn.

8. When he ran across the tarmac in Armley, he used to run like he was from under the red sun, as exemplified by Florp the stand-up comedian in the Futurama episode, My Three Suns. He had a lovely gait and I never tired of watching him quick-walk around. The white spot on his chest would jiggle as he moved.

9. With Sili, our beloved little girl who died of stomach cancer last July, he’s on Google Maps Street View. The road was quiet enough that they could sit out there all day without being disturbed too much.

10. His fangs stuck out of his mouth a little way, little white tips on his black lips. Sometimes I’d stroke them while he slept.

11. Like his sister, his belly sometimes smelled like popcorn. He’d let me bury my face in it and tickle it – but if the tickling got too much for him, he’d gnaw at my knuckles – not biting, more like how a baby gums a toy. His most memorable smell though was after he’d been running and he was sweaty. Sweaty cat is my favourite smell. I’d inhale that deeply.

12. When I entered a room and caught his eye, he’d puff out his chest and move his head around, proud and happy, waiting for a tickle.

13. He had a loud rumble of a purr but sometimes environmental noise would drown it out and you could just feel him vibrating.

14. Curled up on our knees, he’d often stretch out his long front legs so they’d dangle in the air in front of him. We called this SuperChiefing.

15. At night, after his dinner, he’d like a drink of water. Specifically the water in the beaker on my nightstand. I’d shoo him away but when I wasn’t looking, he’d stick his nose in. I’d frequently wake up during the night to the sound of lapping.

16. In Liverpool, when he had to stay in at night, he used to join me as soon as I went to bed and cuddle up next to my belly while I read. Then later, when Carla came into the bedroom too, he’d relinquish the prime spot to his sister and he’d curl up next to my legs instead. In Leeds, when he could come and go as he pleased through the cat flap, he was out most nights for at least part of the night but during our last few weeks, after a couple of fights with a new cat on the block, he started sleeping with us. That continued here and he slept with us nearly every night, including his last.

His last day was a good one: he started it asleep in bed with us, relocated to a sunny window sill, came back to bed for a big cuddle, had a nice breakfast, sat outside in the sun & got to see a squirrel. We were out – a rare day at the office – but as far as we can tell, he was on his cushion (he loved cushions) in the sunny bay window when he got sick then moved upstairs to bed before his legs gave way. I wish we’d been here but there would still have been nothing we could do.

We buried him this morning. He hadn’t been in this house long enough to acquire a favourite spot but we buried him near the beck. It was the heaviest 5 kilograms I’ve ever lifted.

We’re going to miss that little boy a lot.

• Some photos of Carbs

1. To make a meal using only ingredients I’ve grown, raised, caught or killed myself.

Not done much for this one yet – although I have become a mustard making fiend of late and that will probably feed into said meal.

2. To travel to a place on my “top ten places to go before I die” list.

Not done anything on this yet. Boo.

3. Finish writing my second novel.

I’ve thought about it a few times – that counts, right?

4. Learn how to make sausages – wet English style ones and cured ones too.

We’re booked on a course later this month @ Old Sleningford Farm.

5. Spend at least a day fishing out on the North Sea.

Nothing happened on this yet but it wasn’t likely to happen in the winter – far too cold!

6. Finally finish learning how to drive.

Yeah… No… I’ve got annoyed at the buses to/from Bingley a few times though – a couple more times will be plenty of inspiration to get me started again though.

7. Make a full outfit’s worth of clothing for myself – including spinning any wool used.

World of Warcraft has killed a lot of my crafting pursuits but I’ve been keeping an eye out for spinning course.

8. Learn how to program and make a mini-game/application using Ruby.

Ha! something I’ve actually started – I’ve learnt some very basic Ruby from my learning to program book. I made an “angry boss” program and a “deaf grandma” program – very very simple things though so they don’t complete my goal. I must make more time for it.

9. Climb a mountain or at least a jolly big hill.

It’s been too snowy to do anything much towards this one but something that should happen this weekend will make it a whole lot easier to get used to walking…

10. Participate more in the real world – plan/run a real life green event or scheme.

I’ve started the preliminary stages of basic introductory reading/research along one potential path and I’ve bookmarked some relevant stuff – but not really started yet.

So all in all, I’ve not done much towards any of them. It’s the snow and World of Warcraft’s fault.

2. In my mum & dad’s attic, I find games and toys from my childhood and John gushes that he had the same things too. We liberate an old chair, some board games, a soldering kit and vintage macrame shopping bag from their extraneous existence.

3. The drive home from Southport is always filled with chatter. Discussion in the dark.

2. Joe’s all smiles when I return him to his favourite lady after her haircut. All smiles and sticking his tongue out. Today’s the day he discovered he has control over the floppy thing in his mouth and boy, is it fun to stick it out into the open.

3. The cats, circling my ankles, call out to me to hurry up as I sliced the freshly roasted ox heart into smaller chunks for them.

2. The cheese stretches between my teeth and the toasted bread shell.

3. I rarely play PvP battlegrounds and forgot how much fun killing other people can be. Fighting NPCs is rarely as exhilarating – it’s often just a case of going through the motions – but my half-hour in Warsung Gulch is electrifying.

4. Katherine & I discover we’re having the same soup for dinner. Katherine types “smiling now” and I am too. For all our differences, we’re so alike.