I’ve been saying goodbyes for as long as I can remember to schools, houses, countries, friends. (That’s what happens when you’re a Navy brat) and after a while you kind of get used to them.
As I’ve grown up those goodbyes, although gut-wrenching at the time, have paled now to “see you later’s” in lieu of proper “goodbyes”. Nothing can ever prepare you for ‘proper’ goodbyes.
This week, we lost our best friend. Our 14 year old Collie Cross, Jess.
She picked us in 2001 and has been our puppy ever since.
Over the past 2 years, her age has started to cause the odd problem, but she remained a happy, boisterous and chatty pup until Wednesday this week when mum and dad knew she had taken a turn, and the heartbreaking decision was made by them and my vet nurse sister to help her go.
I cannot imagine how hard it was for my sister who works in our family’s local vet practise. Or for mum and dad and their now very quiet house (apart from the ever-demanding feline presence). For me, I was at work and didn’t make it in time. So my final memory of my pup will be taking this picture of her then giving her a big cuddle.
I’ve been up and down about it. It’s been my friends and colleagues who have dogs or who have lost them who have been setting me off. And randomly bursting into tears mid turbo-session was weird. And the subsequent brick run, where I pictured her trotting ahead of me, like she used to, about 20m or so away, with her tongue hanging out and her back legs catching up with her front legs, stopping to ask me to hurry up every so often.
So our puppy sleeps now. And we’re left with a big hole in our hearts.
If you ever met her, you’ll remember how she just loved everyone. Humans were her favourite. Because humans have chewy sticks and cheesy treats and boneos and piggy ears.
If you have a doggle, please go and give them the biggest cuddle ever.
Thank you x