I have been warned against doing what I am about to do before, but nothing will stop me from writing this column.

If you are the sort of person that gives their dog away because you bought a new house or unit that doesn’t suit pets, you probably won’t understand what this is all about. Now, if you are that sort of person, I don’t hold that against you, I just think you are different and I probably don’t understand you, which is probably exactly the same opinion you will have of me after you read on – that is, if you do.

Now regular readers of this column probably realise I am more likely to spend time with my dogs than with people, which is something that has become more frequent as I have got older. I find it good for the soul.

Last week I lost my old mate, our 13-and-a-half-year-old staffy Sumo, who simply decided he had had enough.

We went for our usual walk when I got home and he just lay down like he was in the lounge room, chin on his front feet, and couldn’t or wouldn’t get up.

I won’t go into the details but after a trip to the vet we decided he had given all he could give, as he had had a number of ailments in his latter years. He departed this world, with my wife, me and our oldest son with him. While it was heart-wrenching for us, he seemed to slide away with dignity and peace.

He came into our life in 1993. He grew up with our younger son and bonded with our oldest.

Sumo was the last link I had with my old footy club Maroochydore; his father Bear used to be our mascot when I was playing in the mid to late ’80s.

Bear used to run around the place with his little green jersey on and was a bit of character. I said to his owner one day I would love to have a dog like him, and then promptly forgot I ever said it.

That was, until I got call years later to tell us that they wanted to give us one of his pups.

It was the greatest gift anyone has given me. From the moment we saw the runt of the litter, we were hooked. He quickly became the centrepiece of our existence.

Strange as it may seem to some, he seemed to be able to read our minds and know our moods, and acted accordingly, helping us get through good and bad times. He also played a huge part in averting a family crisis, and for that I will be indebted to him always.

When I think back today, there are many happy memories, but the one that really springs to mind was just a few Christmases ago when I couldn’t think what to buy Sheila for a present and at the last moment I had the brainwave of a picture of Sumo.

Because it was late in the day, I turned up at the Daily with old mate in the car and asked one of the photographers if they could do me a favour and take his picture. I planned to buy a frame on the way home.

As we walked through the office I took a piece of tinsel off the Christmas tree and hung it around his neck. We decided to take the photo at the back of the building, with the backdrop of the lake. It was a great idea at the time – until he saw a swan swimming around and took a flying leap off the bank into the lilies.

Now when he took off it was hard to believe it was the same geriatric dog, as he moved like a two-year-old. Thankfully, he was unsuccessful, and after drying him with my shirt we took the shot and all was well.

If you have read this far, I thank you. I hope that you have a pet that means as much to you as Sumo to our family.

As usual, he did everything right; he even picked a significant day to leave this earth – September 11.

Strangely, I received an email the day before that had a quote from Will Rogers that says it all. “If there are no dogs in heaven, then when I die I want to go where they went.”