A tail stops wagging

The tail that never stops wagging has finally stilled and the world's most pleading eyes have finally closed. A long illness, a dozen 'bounce-backs' to health, a quick onset of pain, and it was finally time to say goodbye to Lainey. At 14, she was the oldest cavalier our vet has known.

Lainey came to us at the age of three to be a friend for Patches. She ignored Patches completely and fell in love with me at first sight - but the feeling wasn't mutual to start with. She arrived a dirty, smelly, infected and mistreated little creature. She glued herself to my ankle, following me around and talking at me in grunts and snorts for three days. It became evident that she'd been kicked at the very least. Soon enough, she cleaned up and got her health back. More gradually, she lost her fear of men and of feet, although she never really became the happy-go-lucky, playful dog that Patches was.
While Lainey would never have won any prizes for intelligence, she might have for eating, and she was the gentlest, kindest little soul I've known, and was one of those dogs that senses upset in humans, always trotting over to offer comfort. 

I used to joke that Lainey had three interests in life - food, meal times and eating. Now there is no one to fall over in the kitchen and no little nose glued impatiently to the door of the biscuit cupboard. No one to lick the shower screen. No one pacing the house late at night, like Nana dog from Peter Pan, checking that everyone is tucked in before she goes to bed. No more 'Gollam'. 

RIP Lainey. 

Melody and I are going to miss you.