Heavenly Beverley : The Many Loves of Ruby Sofoulis

Ruby the Beagle has finally landed. This morning, we chose to euthanise her. This decision was not taken lightly. A month-long course of antibiotics to treat a possible urinary tract infection. Followed by further tests for idiopathic cystitis - inflammation of her bladder without bacteria. Then alarm bells following the discovery of rampant "transitionary" cells. The probable diagnosis was cancer of her bladder wall. Treatable but very serious. However, her behaviour was also suggestive of a rapid descent into doggie dementia. Piddling, barking, blank expressions, confusion, climbing up our legs. She was becoming very difficult to handle.

A further spanner in the works is our impending departure for the Northern Jaunt. If we hadn't added dementia to her list of troubles, we might have seen our way through. However, we were fast losing the quirky, naughty, mischievous, inventive and (occasionally) lovable Beagle day by day.

So, I set out for the Northam vet centre. The car travel distressed Ruby more than normal, in spite of her carsick prevention medication. She was hot and listless. She perked up somewhat on arrival but remained very subdued in the waiting room. Two other loud and boofy bull terriers sent her cowering behind my legs. And then, our turn came.

I was asked the other day why we trek nearly seventy kilometres to visit our GPs. Because we receive thorough, comprehensive and compassionate care. The same could be said of the vets in the same location. And today, Ingrid should have received a commendation for outstanding services to Ruby and to me.

She answered all my questions. We explored all the scenarios. She held me as I cried. She had some trouble with the cannula and Ruby's "old lady" veins, which kept blowing. However, once that mission was accomplished out of my view, Ingrid returned with sixteen kilograms of woebegone Beagle in her arms and set her comfortably on a blue rug on the table. We kissed and cuddled and whispered our love to Ruby as she left us for the big dog oval in the sky.

The rest of the day has passed. There has been lots of time for reminiscing. Ruby has certainly left an indelible stamp on all our lives.

She always trotted to the beat of her own drum. Her favourite position was lying down. So, she spent vast swathes of each day doing just that. Exercise was often taken reluctantly. She was not a social creature and would watch other dogs playing without joining in. However, if released off the leash, she took great delight in vanishing from our view into another dimension. We spent countless hours calling her, driving around looking for her and whistling for her, usually to no avail. Wherever she went, she would pursue her greatest joy - devouring any items she considered food. Wood, hard plastic, horrible old bones, rancid leftovers in bins, snacks left unguarded, handbags open on the floor and particularly pooh.

She certainly had the last laugh. As I cleared out her bedding one last time, there were the remnants of doggy do-dos scattered throughout. I fell into helpless giggles. I remembered losing her at our local park when she first came to live with me. I discovered her behind a tree, demolishing a discarded muffin from the recent sports day. The stalking of the lamb roast on the kitchen bench, resulting in footprints in my lemon tart, a trail of gravy down the drawers and being evaded by a determined Beagle as she rapidly consumed her spoils in the backyard. Endless pens, wall plugs, drawer knobs, door stops and Dad's hearing aid all destroyed. A power cord bitten through, a resulting blue flash, a slightly shaken little dog and goodbye to the fishtank's lights. If she set her mind to chaos, nothing was safe Under Her Eye.

She used all her senses to the same exacting degree as Uncle Martin's antennae. She had cunning in bucketloads and the perseverance of a battering ram. Whilst wearing a zapping collar, she worked out that she could wind down the battery if she sat just close enough to the electric fence. Then she was free to excavate her way out of the House that Rocks on her next adventure. Another triumph by the Problem Child.

Tonight, as I write, there is no background snoring or snorting. The tumbleweeds of hair are vastly reduced. There is no competition for the doggy couch. Pip was able to eat his dinner in peace, without being circled by a canine barracuda. We have been able to dismantle our Stalag 13 arrangement and actually sit on the couch. We left the front door completely open this afternoon without any mysterious disappearances. Suddenly, we are no longer at the mercy of the bloody Beagle.

Which doesn't mean that we won't miss Ruby and ache for her absence from our world. At multiple intervals during the day, I thought of her with a painful twinge in my heart. And she was Michael's last link with Joan, his previous wife who had died suddenly in 2008. Joan and Holly had brought Ruby into their home and then Joan had left Ruby with Michael. Caring for the unbelievably destructive little dog saved Michael's life and committed us both to over a decade of carnage.

Sweet dreams, Ruby Huby.