Every beloved pet owners fear faced me, as I lay on the floor with my head next to hers looking into her eyes and wanting her to feel the love I have for her. I knew this day would come but I was not ready for it, and I would never be ready for it. Our beautiful 11 year old Golden Retriever Shayteese had been diagnosed with a brain tumour only three weeks before and we were heartbroken. In the couple of months preceding her diagnosis we had noticed changes in her behaviour such as periods of compulsive paw licking, and sudden kicking of her legs when she was lying down.

I knew in those months that something serious was wrong, but she was eating so well and for ninety five percent of the time she seemed fine. I so wanted that to be the case.

But then the seizures came, the first one on Tuesday night, the second one on Friday afternoon. On the first trip to the vet she had calmed down significantly by the time we got there and when we recounted what had happened they thought she had suffered a severe allergy and sent her home with antihistamines. On Friday afternoon I was home alone when the seizure started and thankfully somehow in my distress I thought to video tape what she was doing so the vet could actually see what happened.

I telephoned my husband Grant at work, crying inconsolably, and we agreed to meet at the vet. I managed to get Shayteese into the car along with the video camera and after the vet had seen the tape and given Shayteese a full neurological exam, it was identified that she had a severe neurological condition, most likely a tumour. A $3000 MRI could be done to confirm the diagnosis, but the vet said that would not change the treatment plan as she was too old to be operated on.

We were told Phenobarbital was the drug to manage the seizures but after three weeks of treatment she became extremely unwell. On the night before we returned to the vet, Shayteese who slept in a bed in our room, came to my side three times awakening me in distress. In the morning she was reluctant to eat and by midday she simply lay on the floor in the lounge room hardly moving. When I approached her, she would gently tap the floor boards with her tail and try to lift her head to look at me.

My husband Grant and I sat on the floor with her, holding hands and knowing what we were to face.

This 30 kilo second love of my life was truly our baby. Not having had children, we never felt we missed out with Shayteese in our life. As we lay on the floor with Shayteese we recalled the destruction wrought upon our home in the first two years of her life and my comments when she was only six months old that "we could still get our money back if we sold her now". That comment was made after coming home on that occasion to find her sitting in the middle of the dining room table having removed my beautiful dining table lace tablecloth and chewed it in two. We recalled the many garden disasters we faced with her, particularly the time she decided to orally trim our six bird nest ferns whose frongs were each about 60 cms in length prior to her reduction of 10cm lengths. And then there was the time she thought she would try her paws at digging in the lounge room. Yes, right through the carpet she went having an absolute ball until my screams of horror brought her to her feet to retreat to safety until I could calm down.

And now here we were 11 years later with the most precious loving dog a person could ever wish for.

We gently picked her up taking her to the car and onto the vet. We had phoned ahead to say we were coming and went straight into a consulting room. Like most dogs Shayteese always hated going to the vet, and so her adrenaline picked up when we got there enabling her to be on her feet although she was most unsteady. I sat on the floor with her as my husband and I spoke to the vet who suggested there was a course of drugs we could try although there was no promises. My eyes started to light up when I felt my Grant's hand on my shoulder. I looked up into his eyes that were brimming with tears and he said "No. Enough is enough. She has given us too much for us to keep us alive just for us. We need to let her go". Twenty one years of marriage and I have never seen my husband cry, and the tears gently rolled down his face.

I knew he was right, but my heart was breaking. Grant joined Shayteese and I on the floor, and then he turned to the vet asking her to let Shayteese go. We took turns holding Shayteese's head in our hands and kissing her, telling her how much we loved her. As the vet administered the needle we both held her close until she was gone. She was covered with a blanket up to her neck and I remember thinking she just looked like she was asleep.

Now our home is quiet. Nothing is as it should be. I see her everywhere, yet nowhere, and this ache inside me continues day in day out. Her ashes were brought home yesterday and I can't explain why but it has given me some comfort knowing her remains are here with us.

It would be so easy to retreat into darkness with my grief, but I recall the times over the last 11 years when I was distressed and Shayteese would come and put her head in my lap to provide me with comfort, and I know she would not want me to give in. So I bathe myself in the beautiful memories and the love we feel so honoured to have been showered with by our girl. A wise friend once said to me that whilst losing a treasured pet is painful, would we ever have missed out on one minute of time that we shared with them? I know I wouldn't.

I feel truly blessed to have had Shayteese in our life for over 11 years.....