After I collapsed during a run along a beach, my loyal dog Beau sprang into action
W
hen I lost my wife, Jo, to cancer eight years ago, I knew it was time for a fresh start, so I packed up my London home and moved to Poole on the Dorset coast. I longed for a companion, so I welcomed a labrador puppy into my life, naming him Beau in a nod to the time Jo and I had spent living in France.
A gun dog from Derbyshire with a sleek black coat and deep brown eyes, Beau was an adorable and mischievous puppy who kept me on my toes right from the start. When he was six months old, he rummaged in a fisherman’s bucket and swallowed a fishing line and hook. Thankfully, it came out the other end, narrowly avoiding surgery.
Beau fits perfectly into my outdoor lifestyle. He comes sailing and paddleboarding with me and sits patiently on the shore when I go for my daily sea swims, running around excitedly when I emerge from the water, spraying sand everywhere. It was after one of these sea swims that Beau truly left his mark on my heart.
