A tribute to a life well lived

Something that I wished would never happen happened recently. We said goodbye to our beloved Pepe. And whilst I wish it would never happen, being so closely involved in the passing of so many pets over my career I think I've had anticipatory grief of this moment for years, ... and years. It didn't make it any easier. However the tears now come in waves and I can now pay tribute to all the beauty that Pepe brought to my life rather than reflect on the loss.

Where do I start? What a joy it is to have a dog. To have someone to share long walks with and connect with nature. To take you out every day, even in the rain, and especially in the rain to feel alive. To go out and see the moon and stars every night for the final wee wee's. The reassuring faint snore with the rise and fall of her breath as I'm lying in bed.

In the early days we had so many adventures - trips to the beach, country holidays, swimming in lakes and rivers, weekend walks to find a waterfall or a bakery. She was the first one in the car and would sit for hours waiting to leave. She would entertain other walkers with her famous 2 ball prowess - finding one ball not a sufficient challenge. She could also sniff out a ball anywhere - she had an enormous ball collection and I don't think we ever bought a single one. And when she leapt for a ball into a river or lake she was the dog that could fly - such beautiful strength and agility.

She was young and so was I. She started life eating a 'premium' dry food - oh how times have changed and how much we learnt and grew together. Both able to anticipate each others needs.

And then there were also the misdemeanours. There was the infamous killing of my grandmas favourite silky chicken. An incident that has regretfully not been forgotten. We also never took her back to the Woodend Farmers market after a run in with another dog. I'm also not sure what was worse - rolling in fox poo during evening golf course walks or having to drive 1.5 hours home after kangaroo poo eating safaris and her filling the car with her fragrant panting breath. Pepe did have the nick name Poopy for a reason.

The last few years she's been an old dog. The long daily adventures became slow meanders, eventually just down the street to finish the cat food at my grandmas house. In the slowness I had time to appreciate the finer qualities of the changing of the leaves on the trees, and the luminescence of the bright new growing green blades of grass. Pepe's favourite activity became the nightly 'dinner show'. Her favourite time of day was sitting in the kitchen watching dinner being prepared and doing some taste testing along the way. She then waited in great anticipation for helping with dishes. Writing this is bringing another wave of tears - I miss her just being there.

In her old age she taught me more and more. She gave me so many gifts of experience that I can pass on to my patients. Some of her insights she gave me on Laryngeal Paralysis I shared as a presenter at the Biomechanics Conference recently - and I've had 3 practitioners who attended this conference contact me in the last 2 weeks regarding the information presented for their own patients. I hope her insights go on to help many other dogs in generations to come.

She's also given me some new experience even in her passing. A few actually, but the one I'll share is that she's never that far away. Energy is never lost, just transmuted, and the energy of her life can still be there when I need it. Maybe that will resonate and find comfort with someone that reads this.

Fly again Pepe.