Our beloved dog died yesterday. She'd been in hospital for a week, suffering with Jaundice, sickness and diarrhoea. I'd been visiting her every night for the past week and even though she so ill she still warmed my heart and gave so much love. Her eyes lit up and her tail wagged, as soon as she saw me and I would then sit with for as long as possible while she licked my hand and let me stroke her.

She was due to have tests today to find out what was causing the illness when the vet phoned on Sunday to say she had deteriorated over night. Her liver had stopped working and her abdomen had swollen in size, making it difficult for her to get up. It wasn't hard to know that it was time to say goodbye.

A few simple things at the vets that day made me realise the reality of the situation. Seeing her name and age on the consent form. She would have been 12 in December. Seeing her struggling to get up and wag her tail as she saw my Dad and I approach her cage. Then watching her looking so peaceful as the vet injected her. I wanted to thank the vet and the staff and say how grateful I was for all they had done, but it was hard to say anything without breaking down.

I'm staying at my parents house at the moment where she used to live and the more I look around the more the harsh reality that we're never going to see her again sinks in. It's hard, really hard, and I don't like feeling sad, but I don't want to forget either, which is why I'm leaving a little something here, in this crass, commercial and sometimes tacky virtual world.

Thank you Sophie, thank you so much. You gave so much love right until the end and we'lll never forget you.
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