One day, Patch overheard the man ask Jenny if he could take Patch out for a walk. Patch tiptoed up to the door and listened hopefully.

"I don't know, Emmett, he's really old and the vet says he's probably only got a few months left in him. I wouldn't want to put a strain on him," she said.

"But I'd go real slow with him," pleaded the man. "And look at me! I can easily carry him back if he gets too tired to walk."

Jenny could find no fault with his argument.

"Alright she," she said finally. "But please go slow with him. He's riddled with arthritis and finds it quite difficult to move."

Patch swiftly lay down and pretended to be asleep so they wouldn't know he'd been listening. He felt the man run a cool hand across his back and opened his eyes sleepily, yawning for effect.

"Wanna go walkies?" asked the man, enthusiastically. "C'mon, let's go hunt some rabbits!"

Patch got to his feet and ambled along as the man headed off towards the footpath which led to the forest. Catch rabbits indeed! Patch couldn't even snap at the flies which hung around his sore bumps these days!

As soon as they were out of sight of the house the man stopped and bent down. Gently he fondled Patch's ears.

"Don't worry, boy," he said. "I'm not gonna make you walk miles. I'm gonna carry you!"

And with that he carefully lifted Patch up into his arms and held him securely to his solid chest. Patch wondered why the man wanted to carry him already. They'd only been walking five minutes and Patch was a little offended if the man thought that was all he could manage. The next second the man took off into the trees and Patch knew exactly why he was being carried.

The sensation was exhilarating. The wind whipped by as the man snaked in and out of the trees, leaping over streams in one bound and springing up steep rocky slopes. Patch felt like a puppy again. The strong scents of green and brown assaulted his nostrils and he hungrily drank in the story they told. He sensed the herd of deer which had passed by several hours ago; he smelt the strong scent of a wildcat that had marked his territory on a nearby tree; he caught the acrid whiff of scorched wood from a tree which had been struck by lightning during last night's storms. Patch could read it all. He closed his eyes and allowed the myriad scents to fill him entirely.

Eventually the man slowed his pace and came to rest on the edge of a glade. He gently laid Patch down and crouched beside him looking at him carefully.

"You okay boy?" he asked cautiously, and tentatively reached out to fondle Patch's ears. Patch never thought he would adore anyone as much as his beloved mistress again but this man had just given him the most thrilling experience he'd had in years. Summoning all his strength he put his paws up on the man's shoulders and gave him a succession of big slobbery licks all over his face.

The man's laughter boomed out frightening several flocks of birds, as he rolled onto the grass with Patch still madly licking him.

"What say we go find those rabbits now!" he announced.

In the middle of the glade were several rabbit holes and the fresh droppings scattered around the entrances told Patch that they were inhabited. He and the man settled down some way from the warren and both froze like statues. The only movement was the minute quivering of Patch's nostrils as he waited for the first scent of prey.

Patch and Emmett caught the sweet smell of the approaching rabbit at the same time. It was a youngster who had gotten over-confident because he hardly ever encountered a predator. He sat in the middle of the glade gently licking his paw before running it repeatedly over his long floppy ears. Suddenly a twig snapped and as he looked round he was terrified to see an enormous man thundering straight for him at a phenomenal rate. The rabbit froze for a second and then turned to flee, straight into the waiting jaws of a grinning dog. Patch snapped once and the rabbit's neck was instantly broken leaving the creature hanging limply in his mouth.

"Good boy!" praised the man, as he helped Patch to rip open the skin and enjoy the best meal he had eaten in a long time. Tinned dog food was okay but it was nothing compared to the deliciousness of tearing into the smooth blood-covered muscles of a warm kill. The man dipped his finger into the steaming carcus and licked it before wrinkling his nose.

"Give me grizzly every time," he said, leaving Patch to finish his meal.

Weeks went by and Patch enjoyed his regular forays with the man. They would always walk slowly out of sight of the house before the man would lift him into his arms and take him on another thrilling hunt into the wilderness. Patch felt like a new dog.

Then one day something felt different. He didn't want to get out of his warm basket in the kitchen and just lay there sleepily as Jenny fussed around. The vet came for a couple of visits and Patch heard him say, "Just keep him warm, it won't be much longer now," and wondered what it meant. The man still came every day but instead of taking him hunting would just sit with Patch and gently run his soothing cold hands across his fur.

It was late on Thursday afternoon when Patch passed away. Emmett sat by his basket and gently soothed him as he listened to the heartbeat falter.

"Sleep tight old man," he whispered, and softly bent down to kiss Patch's head. The weary heart fluttered once more and then was silent.

Emmett asked Jenny for permission to bury the old dog out where he'd enjoyed taking him for walks. Jenny knew the young man had become very attached to Patch and granted his request.

Carlisle passed the piece of polished wood over and stood back to watch as Emmett firmed down the soil on top of the small mound at the edge of the glade before firmly pressed the small oak marker into place. For all his towering size and strength, right now Emmett looked like a small, forlorn child very much in need of a hug from his father as he dealt with his loss.

Put those hankies away people and review!