Wednesday, 16 November 2011
My gorgeous old dog died today, aged 17 years and 8 months. Mind you, she wasn't always a gentle old lady - she was a right thug in her youth, picking fights with other dogs and defending her lord and master (my husband) to the death. Her favourite things were digging and chewing roots.
Yesterday, it was obvious that she was nearing the end. She has had dementia for four years, which she has borne with great courage and patience. In the last few days she had lost the capacity to eat, though she could still lap liquids. She was completely peaceful so it had been tempting to keep her with me just one more day, one more week, but I knew that she was ready to go. In the afternoon, I took her up to our favourite forest path, aiming to carry her along. We did mainly go along in that fashion but at one point she asked to get down and wandered off up the path for a short while. I took a picture of her and I am glad I did because it seemed to capture the mood of today - my little dog setting off on some unknown journey along a long woodland path.
She has been the best companion I could have wished for these last 6 years and I am going to miss her dreadfully. Sweet dreams Gem.