Dec. 25th, 2011

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We had to have Amy put down today. She deteriorated rapidly overnight and we had to weigh up whether we were keeping her alive for ourselves and Christmas, or whether she had any chance of recovery.

The vet said she had something blocking her heart, perhaps fluid, perhaps a tumour. She just looked so exhausted, so ready to give in, that we had to make the decision. She died with my mum stroking her face, my brother and father petting her, while I stood in the corner and cried like an idiot. I couldn't face seeing her dead, so had to leave.

My last image is of her looking so tired, her head held up by my mother, struggling to breathe. She didn't cry out when they put the needle in, just whimpered a little. I remember the vet saying her breathing would grow heavier, that they should lay her down. God, I'm such a coward, not being able to turn around, to say goodbye.

I loved her so much I can't even tell you. She was my brave, feisty dog, my irritating little bear, my companion since I was 17.

I loved you so much, Amy. I will never, ever forget you.

I can't stop crying.

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