Episode 52 – Heff & Huff

Heff, Hutt & the Inheritance of Dog Biscuits

After Dad passed, the will was read, the turf was turned and the drama rolled in faster than a storm over Faurel Hill. But you know what no one fought over?The dogs. That’s right. Heff and Hutt. Dad’s loyal sidekicks, his four-legged farmhands (and before that my mothers babies).

They barked at clouds, snored like tractors and wouldn’t give Bully the time of day even if he came wrapped in bacon. Dad, in classic Dad fashion, had always stocked the cow shed with dog food and the cupboard with treats. After he died, that stash mysteriously vanished. Spoiler alert: someone took it. No note, no heads-up, just ‘woof’ and it was gone.

So guess who became the sole caretaker of Heff and Hutt? Yep. Me. The one scraping by, counting coins for kibble and boiling rice like a Michelin-star chef for dogs. Hutt passed last fall and it hit hard. Heff’s still with me and he’s nearly 15 now, diabetic, blind and somehow still more emotionally intelligent than half the family.

He gets insulin twice a day, eats chicken breast and rice and sleeps on my best throw blanket like he owns the place. And honestly? He does. He’s earned it.

Meanwhile, Bully and Fanny didn’t so much as lift a dog bowl. Not a text, not a ‘how’s Heff doing’? – just silence. Which, in its own way, speaks volumes about how much they really valued Dad.

Because you can tell a lot about people by how they treat the ones who can’t speak for themselves.

Lesson of The Day:

If you ever want to spot the real heart in a family, forget the will – follow the dog food.