Today at 6:30 pm our beloved little pirate passed away. He was only ten days away from celebrating his sixteenth birthday.

He came into our home along with his big ginger brother Simon as 'Rocky', and was soon renamed 'Guus' (which I often bastardized into Guusje, Guusepuus, Guusiepuusie, etc), as a frail 12-year-old. He gained weight and turned out to be a very loving, talkative little sweetiepie who soon became dad's best buddy.

He'd been having some health issues lately, and since this weekend he'd have trouble getting around. He certainly made sure our vet wasn't getting bored anytime soon, and we still don't know what really got to him. For my ease of mind I'm just sticking to that his body decided he was old now and that he'd had enough.

He was very pleased by our company, and he hasn't been alone for even a minute today.

He'll get a proper burial tomorrow, the weather forecast already predicted suitably sulky rainy weather.

Ship ahoy, matey. May the wind carry you on great buccaneerin' adventures.