Our boy

On Friday night at about 7pm Rob and I made one of the hardest decisions we have ever made. The decision to ask the vet to help out precious boy end his pain.

George was suffering from Lymphoma, and was only recently diagnosed, we hadn't even really finished the conversation about treatment and where next, when he started to take a dramatic down turn and began to vomit blood and stopped eating and drinking. We took him to the vets hoping we'd be able to buy him some time via medication to make him comfortable. But as our conversation with the vet progressed it became clear any time we might buy him wouldn't be quality time, so we asked the vet to end his suffering. It was heart breaking and Rob and I were devastated. He was our first "baby" and was a massive part of our family. Coming home without him and walking through the door into an empty house, needing to tell the girls the outcome of the visit to the vets was gut wrenching. I'm in tears as I type this as we're so desperately sad. But this post isn't about sadness, it's about joy, it's about the wonderful times we had with a fantastic boy, who taught us so many lessons about love and joy.

Rob and I bought our first house in April 2002, and in May 2002 went to the rescue centre to find a companion to share our house with. We've both always had dogs and couldn't wait to find one to share our home. That's how in 2002 a bouncy, very stupid (but so so lovable), 6 month old staffordshire bull terrier cross, called George, came to share our house.

That first day we picked him as he was the quiet watchful, sad eyed dog at the kennel, we walked him the 4 miles home and he made himself immediately at home on our hideous orange sofa - from then on he was constantly at our side. He was needy and suffered from various types of anxiety and we often called him "shadowfax" cos he was always there. He was at his happiest when all his family (pack) were sitting down together and he could snuggle with us.

When I was expecting Megan, someone asked if were were getting rid of this dog as he might not like being displaced by a baby, the thought hadn't even occurred to us. And from day one he loved the girls and welcomed them into his pack.

He was a constant presence, always there, for family walks in bluebell wood, when the girls took their first steps, at Christmases and birthdays. Always bouncy, always cheerful and always full of fun and up for a hug.

He was dopey and often knocked me over when we were out with his massive sense of exuberance, he was unsure of other dogs, but loved to play and jump and run. He hated water, and would anxiously dance about when he needed a wee and it was raining.

He loved those girls, and took every chance to be with them, and snuggle in their beds. He slept in or under our bed every night for 10 years. When Rob worked away he kept me company and made me feel safe. When he was younger he used to chew! Everything! He famously ate my wedding dress (luckily after it had been worn), and reduced a wooden futon base to matchsticks, and took plaster off the kitchen walls. He really did try our patience as he couldn't be left without destroying something, but when Rob was able to become a home based worker that all changed, and Georgie became his joyful office co-worker.

One of George's best things was the snow - he loved to catch snowballs and would chase round excited whenever the weather turned cold.

He was frighted of sheep, after being chased by them on a Welsh holiday and we've got a wonderful picture of him looking totally girlie, in a pink life jacket on a canal boat holiday. We also once managed to actually make him so tired he couldn't jump around (I think the one and only time), after 16 miles round a welsh reservoir!

He took to our recent new catty addition with no problem, and although was unsure of other dogs out of the house, was completely subservient to them when in the house. So when Cheeky Girl, Lady or Charlie came to visit, he always vacated him bed and lay on the floor. He snored like a train.

On his last day Rob took him for a final walk and we could see how in pain he was when he whined at every step on the way home and couldn't chomp up his stick like he usually tried to do. Rob took this final photo of him at the park, looking old and grey and thin - which was a far cry from our bouncy daft boy. But I'm so glad he took it as it's a lovely picture.

Our house feels quiet and unusually unchaotic without him here, coming home to no joyous welcome is awful, and the girls are very upset. Isobel asks for him and Megan just wants her boy back. I'm dreading Rob's next overnight working trip as with no dog to snuggle I'm going to feel awfully lonely, and I know Rob isn't looking forward to no office companion tomorrow.

We will get another dog, as our house just isn't a home without one, we've always been "doggie people". Another dog will never replace George, but it will mean we can honour his memory by offering the love and joy he taught us to another dog. But for now it's all too raw and sad - but as was the intention of this post - with rays of hope and joy too. We had a wonderful 10 years with our precious lad. So I hope he'll be waiting for me over the rainbow bridge when it's my time to join him. Until then he is always in our hearts, that dopey, big head tiny brain, totally soppy and lovable, digestive biscuit smelling dog.