Lilly

On Tuesday morning we had to say goodbye to our gorgeous Lilly.

Almost 10 years old; driving home with Dad from Plymouth on Monday my wife Nikki rang to say her back legs had suddenly collapsed. I came home to find she was in no pain, just unable to make her back legs work, baffled and frustrated that she couldn’t rise to greet me. We sat with her throughout the night and the following morning with the vet, whilst neither she nor I nor Nik were ready, it was obvious there was only one decision we could take.

I hadn’t wanted another dog; I’d been quite adamant, but despite that had been “manoeuvred” into it by my mum and my wife. I guess sometimes you just don’t realise what it is you need, and from the moment she came into our home and our lives I realised I’d been wrong.

She was a beautiful, fearless, affectionate, bossy, stubborn clown, who loved her ball but would never play fetch, who loved her walks but only so that she could lie in the long grass with her ball and watch over the rest of us as we took our exercise. 

For some years, she opened our doors to a multitude of foster dogs, waywards and stray, and with us nurtured and shepherded them onto forever homes of their own. And some of those we kept, and like us, they became a part of her pack.

She loved people and she loved her family. She was a face licker and a bed stealer, a gift I hadn’t looked for and a thief of hearts, and we miss her.

Ten years is far too short a lease, but I’m grateful for every moment we’ve shared. She leaves a hole in our lives as big as an ocean.