Walking out of the veterinary practice without Charley was the hardest walk I have ever taken.

I knew, from the moment I walked through those doors, that he wasn’t coming home.

The silence in the car was unbearable.

When I got home, I left Sophie with Steve.

Then I did something that broke my heart all over again.

I gathered up Charley’s basket, his bedding, his toys and everything that carried his scent. I washed down the areas outside where he had been ill.

To anyone looking in, it might have seemed too soon.

But I wasn’t doing it because I wanted to forget Charley.

I did it because I had another little dog who still needed me.

I knew Sophie would search for him and smell where he had been. I wanted to help her understand that life had changed and to make the transition as gentle as I could for her.

Looking back, I think I was trying to protect Sophie, even though I couldn’t protect myself.

When everything was finished, I completely fell apart.

I cried harder than I had ever cried in my life.

The pain was so overwhelming that I honestly didn’t want to be here without him.

Nothing had ever hurt like that before.

Not even close.

For the first two years after Charley died, I couldn’t even say his name.

I couldn’t talk about him.

Whenever someone mentioned him, I simply went numb.

Even now, four years later, I still miss him every single day.

People often ask whether dogs grieve.

I believe Sophie did.

She looked for him at first, but she slowly settled back into life.

Perhaps she realised she now had all of Mummy’s attention again and became queen bee once more.

Dogs seem to have a remarkable ability to live in the present.

I wish we humans could do the same.

What I missed wasn’t just having a dog.

I missed Charley.

I missed hearing myself ask,

“Where’s Charley?”

Only for him to come running as if to say,

“I’m here, Mummy!”

If he ever wandered out of sight, he was never far away.

He always wanted to know where I was.

I missed him sitting on my desk while I tried to work.

I missed his cuddles at bedtime.

I even missed his nightmare bark whenever I left him, as though the world was coming to an end because I’d gone out for a little while.

Those little things that sometimes made me smile or even drove me mad became the things I longed to experience just one more time.

Charley didn’t just break my heart.

He broke all of ours.

Steve was devastated.

My mum was devastated.

Every one of us loved that little dog more than words could ever express.

He had a way of making people fall in love with him without even trying.

Even today, I still keep in touch with his human mum.

That friendship has brought me great comfort over the years.

She always sends Christmas messages to me, and now to Sophie too.

Sadly, Bella, Mr Grumpy and Charley’s brother have all since passed away.

Sometimes I think about that whole little family and smile.

Then I think about Charley…

and I still cry.

People often say that time heals.

I don’t believe that’s quite true.

Time teaches you how to carry your grief.

It never asks you to stop loving.

A part of me died the day Charley died.

I never imagined such a tiny little dog could leave such a huge space behind.

But he did.

And he always will.