Goodbye to Our Great Big, Grey, Beautiful Girl.

This morning was different. Sascha, who has been in the habit of barking from dawn until she is given her pig's ear, was strangely silent. She was waiting behind the barricade with Pip and Ruby but was subdued and solitary. Initially, I heaved a sigh of relief at unbroken sleep, but then I realised Sascha was not herself. She appeared to be having difficulty sitting. I thought she was just feeling bolshy. When her morning treat held no appeal for her, my heart plummetted. Our beloved Sascha's life was drawing to its conclusion.

She had seemed indestructible. At fourteen-years-old, she had beaten mast cell tumours, a dog attack, splenic cancer and a benign lipoma. She had saved my life by her very presence back in 2006 when I had a catastrophic breakdown. She ran with me in Karrinyup, in Tewantin and in Marangaroo. She walked with me all around Beverley.

She adored people unreservedly. First Ruby the cat entered her life as her companion. They often slept together on the sofa and played, as much as a cat can play with a dog. But Pip, her shadow for the last eleven years, held her heart. Rarely were they separated. Pip will need plenty of love and support as I am sure that he will grieve for his life partner.

She tolerated the inclusion of the Problem Child into our lives in 2010. Just as well Ruby came with Michael, whom she accepted immediately and enthusiastically. As a young dog, she was skittish and nervous at loud noises, rattling signs and sudden movement. Not as destructive as Sophie, my previous Weimaraner, she still had her moments of madness, particularly in the garden.

A few days ago, she was still capable of a short burst of speed at the oval. Her other favourite activity was to throw herself delightedly onto the grass and roll with ecstasy. At home, she enjoyed lying on the warmth of the outside carpet, revelling at being a canine sun goddess.

Obviously descended from the pharaohs, one of her favourite position was to lie with her head up,  her front legs crossed, like a version of the Sphynx. Perhaps she knew, for at the vet, she assumed the position one last time.

I am comforted with the knowledge I asked her to stay alive until she could lie in the sun in and outside Station House. And she allowed us the privilege of being with her as her spirit left her body.

Tracey, the senior vet at Heartlands York, was exceptional in her care of Sascha and us. Thank you also to Amber, a junior vet, Steph and the lovely vet student whose name escapes me.

We are going to have her cremated and bring her ashes home. For anyone who knew Sascha, please ask the universe to embrace and love her as we have.

Farewell Sascha. Know how much you have meant to us.