Sometimes I tell myself that I should have known better than to get another Mastiff. Mastiffs, you see, are insidious. They dig their way into your heart, putting down roots that even the most vigorous gardening cannot get rid of. They're stubborn, mastiffs - stubborn in their ability to make you love them, and in their ability to make you say, in spite of all the heart break, 'maybe just one more'.

Skye was never a 'replacement' for Murfee - she was her own dog, and we loved her for her own merits. I admit that, initially, I tried not to get too overly attached to her, but Mastiffs don't let you do anything half heartedly, including love.

Skye passed away from bloat in June of 2004, and I still miss her every single day. Will I ever get another Mastiff? Ask me again, in a few years time...