He was your best friend. You did everything together and you went everywhere together. You played with sticks and balls, you jogged across the heath together on a Sunday morning with the wind in your hair and the wind in his fur. You sneaked half of your steak and kidney pie under the table for him whilst the wife wasn't looking, and in return he'd cock his leg and spray your snooty neighbour's garden gate.
Inseparable.
Until that heart-breaking day when he peacefully breathed his last, curled up beside the open fire.
This is the point where you have to make a decision. Can you face the future without seeing those doleful, trusting eyes staring obediently up at you. Presumably not.

Therefore it is time to immortalise him through the artistic process of Taxidermy, and here are some golden rules to ensure this distressing but therapeutic time runs as smoothly as possible.

Rule 1 : Please make absolutely sure your dog is dead.
It would not be in-keeping with the love and trust of your twelve year relationship to skin him alive and stuff him full of clay and papier mache, when all the poor bastard was doing was taking a brief nap.
Check for a heartbeat.
Hold his favourite squeaky toy next to his ear and give it a jolly good squeeze.
Grab next door's Tabby cat and proffer it's struggling, scrabbling body as a sacrifice. A few feline bites and scratches are a small price to pay to ensure Fido's stuffing is a comfortable and stress free experience.
Whinnying, growling and barking are also giveaway signs when you are wielding the knife, that he still has a few bottoms to sniff before he's ready to be stuck on your mantelpiece.

Rule 2: Make it clear to your wife from the outset where she stands in all of this.

It is natural for her at this stage to feel a little neglected and insecure about where your priorities lie. When you told her that you had a surprise for her that evening, she was expecting a trip to the Ritz – not the sound of you hacking and sawing away in the garden shed for the rest of the day.
Make sure she understands that if she throws the old " It's me or the stuffed dog! " ultimatum at you, you'll give her a hand with her packing as soon as you've finished the back legs and posterior.
Alternatively, placate her fears about favouritism with the following assurance. When she pops her clogs, you'll have her stuffed as well.

Rule 3: Leave poor Muttley's balls til last, and please leave it to an expert.

Rule 4: In order to combat the initial smell, use " fabreze " at regular intervals. This should be close to hand…. You had plenty in stock for when you were sharing half of your steak and kidney pie with the flatulent little fella….