In the twelve and a half years we shared with Flash, she and Leica had never been apart. When we decided to get a dog, we imagined, or more accurately, I imagined I wanted a male dalmatian. I had names in mind. He would be Ansel, or perhaps Minor. Named for one of my photography idols. I imagined the smartest, most faithful and intelligent of creatures. An advert in a newspaper described the three remaining pups from a litter, one male and two female. I knew which I wanted. I was going to collect the dog that would be ‘Ansel’.

A trip one Monday in January across the country to a little township in County Tyrone, we found that ‘Ansel’ was gone the previous day. Instead we were taken out behind the house where two 8 week old bundles of paws and spots tumbled together out of their enclosure. We came home with both.

To anyone who has researched the ‘ideal’ way to bring a dog home there are a few adages that will seem familiar: Never take two pups from the same litter because the sibling rivalry will cause issues. Never take two pups of the same gender simultaneously, specifically because there will inevitably be issues around positions of dominance. Taking two pups simultaneously will significantly affect your ability to train them. Heart wins over head. We (maybe just me), couldn’t bring ourselves to separate them. How could you choose? How could you leave one behind while simultaneously separating the other from their last remaining sibling? For better or worse, we couldn’t and didn’t.

For the rest of her life, Leica had Flash beside her. Through all their lives they were together. Huddled together at night as foxes for warmth.