Suddenly, at his home, surrounded by his family, his whiny, scruffy and –despite many applications of multiple varieties of shampoo– seemingly incurably stinky dog, and a frankly unnecessary pile of biscuit crumbs, Bryntin has died.
It was peaceful, and it has been since.
He leaves a wife, two children, the aforementioned smelly dog, many undone jobs and no money at all.
His large, amusingly-shaped pebble and seashell collection has been
thrown spread respectfully back upon the beach, where he spent many happy hours searching for them. Just a few were given as gifts to The Scurvy Schooner pub next to the beach, where he also spent many happy hours. Doris the barmaid always fancied the one that was like a parsnip. Reminded her of someone apparently.
There will be a collection towards installing a memorial bench at the beach. Ideas for an inscription text for a plaque are welcomed, as none of the suggestions received so far have been deemed suitable for a public place.
As a mark of respect, and as a form of memorial, his family have decided to leave his writings here. It was felt that the seven people, who knew of and for some reason enjoyed this blog, may wish to occasionally gather here, to share their fond memories of the idiot.
A quiet funeral has already taken place, but if anybody feels that they want to pay their respects, the family request that your comments should be kept family friendly.
You can be rude to anyone else.
Any further postings on this blog will therefore be posthumous and possibly post-humorous.
There has already been interest in the blog from a local scrap merchant, but the family will also be interested in any monetary offers, especially if they exceed the value of a ‘surprisingly intact’ 1974 Austin Allegro wing mirror.
The family will also be interested in any recommendations for alternative dog shampoos to try, or perhaps any dog rescue re-homing offers from olfactorily-impaired long-covid sufferers.
We realise that this will come as shocking news to many of you, but please remember the happy times, if any.
Be strong, life goes on.
Although not for Bryntin, obviously.
Thank you for your attention.
OK, Pen, post this as soon as you can. I left the password for my account in the sock drawer (don’t forget to delete this paragraph). That should be enough to throw them off and keep them away from the house for now. If any solicitors call, tell them my lawyer will call them. If any lawyers call, tell them my solicitor will call them. I’m doing fine. Although, can you please send some more custard creams in the next parcel? Thanks.