It's 4:30 a.m., and I haven't slept much at all because the little fella in the photo, Hap, my dog, I've just buried in the backyard.

I've had a few dogs, and they all find their way into your heart. We've always had working dogs. Dogs that serve a purpose have a job to do. But a French Bulldog? Hardly.

When my wife made it clear ten years ago that the next dog was to be a Frenchie, I was the principal doubter. Indeed, they're nowhere near as quick as a sheepdog, as tough as a cattle dog, or as alert as a gun dog. But, as I learned over time, this little boy knew how to be there for you.

My business took me away from home around 100 nights a year. He never complained once.

He could have, but he didn't. I missed a ton of walks, playing frisbee in the backyard, bushwalks behind the house and the company a dog gives. When I was home, he'd be just as happy to sit by my feet. For as long as I was there, he'd be there. Not a word of complaint.

On walks, he'd find friends everywhere we went. Frenchie's have a habit of doing that, as do many dogs. Making a friend is just the way they are. Over the years, we met many people who didn't, or couldn't, have a dog, and seeing Hap gave them more joy than I realised. "He's such a Happy Boy, isn't he?".

So the name stuck: The Happy Boy.

I know that this morning, on our walk, he won't be there. Of course, we'll find it hard, but I know there will be people out there who will miss him too, more than we probably realise.

We don't really know them all that well, a hello here and there, but I know they looked forward to seeing him. You see, Hap found a way to let you know; others know, he was glad to see you, too.

It's too often the way in our lives we build friendships, and we don't take the time to realise how important they are when they're gone. We go to work day after day, week after week. Months and years go by until that one day when something changes and that friendship, that person, just isn't there.

It's a lesson for all of us. Don't take that friendship, that person, for granted.

I've always talked to my dogs. They're great listeners! And, in Hap, I found a wonderful friend.

Of course, I'll miss him. I miss him now. But he knew he was loved; he was important, and I was grateful for him. I told him so, and I told him often.

The photo in our driveway is where Hap liked to sit, waiting for me to come home.