Thursday, 6 September 2012
I wish there was a cure for a broken heart.
This is my first baby, Lola. We found her at a rescue shelter in Milton Keynes in 1999, after the council had picked her up in the city centre, lost and pregnant. No one came to claim her, and after her puppies were weaned, she came home with us. What a gift it was to us, that stupid people let a dog so filled with love go.
When Alex was born in 2000, and Anna in 2004, she became their second mother. To the day before she died, her bedtime routine was always to go in to their bedrooms and check that they were there before she settled herself down in our room.
It's so raw right now, I can't express fully how much she means to us as part of our family, how much we all love her and will always love her, and how filled with a desperate and terrible grief I am. What I've written isn't good enough, but I'm too lost right now to be able to put any of this into any sort of order.
Lola became ill at the weekend, and passed away on Tuesday, at home with myself and my husband, and our wonderful, kind vet, Mr Richard Jones from the Kingston Veterinary Group. I can't thank him enough for his strength and compassion.
Goodbye my baby, I love you so much.