Jeffrey.

I was lucky enough to have one and a half weeks with my boy after I got home from my trip. The vet put him on antibiotics and steroids, but they only made a minimal difference. He was on his way out.

Jeffrey and Poppy were litter brother and sister. We got Poppy from her breeder when she was 8 weeks old, after our old girl Molly, a tricolour Cavalier, died. We had a rescue old man Cavalier called Bertie and we hoped that having a puppy in the house would perk him up, but he was having none of it. Poppy, always a very intelligent girl (for a Cavalier) was bored with him. So I rang Jenny, the breeder and asked if she had a sister for Pops.

“No, but Poppy’s litter brother was returned a few days ago,” she said. “He was intended to be a stud dog in Sydney but he’s still missing a testicle.”

He came home with us a day later. They were 6 months old. Given his soft, sweet nature, living in a breeder’s kennels wouldn’t have suited him much. That missing ball was the luckiest thing that ever happened to him. An added bonus was that Bertie gained a new lease on life. Can’t have another rooster in the henhouse! Haha!

A funny little habit he picked up from then was that for the first couple of months, he was very anxious every time we went for a walk, possibly because he was afraid he’d be moving house again. Every time we came home, he’d jump on top of the couch to cuddle me and ‘thank’ me for coming home again. Over time that morphed into a ‘thank-you’ for the walk. On his last day, he still did this.

Jeffrey – named after Jeff Probst on ‘Survivor’ – was a very pretty boy and moved like an absolute dream, which as a former breeder meant a lot to me. Once you know the breed standard, it’s hard to ignore anything not up to scratch. He floated over the ground.

One thing he knew how to do very well though, was to love. Specifically, to love me. If I was home, he HAD to be either beside me or at the very least in direct eye contact with me. If he woke up and I’d moved, he’d go on patrol throughout the entire property until he found me.

Even on his last day, when I sat on the other couch, he jumped down and then up on the other couch to sit beside me.

Whenever I left, he’d position himself along the back of the couch where he could see from the window and he’d wait for the click of the gate or the sound of the car. He’d stay there for hours.

The Cavalier King Charles Spaniel is a breed you buy when you want something happy with everyone – man, woman or beast. A dog who is content to be with you and is happy to do whatever you want to do.

A walk? Fantastic!

Sit on the couch and read a book all day? Terrific!

Go in the car for an adventure? Wonderful!

This was Jeffrey all over. A soft, sweet boy who was happiest when he was with me.

These photos are all taken on his last day. I went to the ballet with Jenna on Tuesday night and had dinner with her and Evan28. I said to him, “You have to come and say goodbye to Jeff tomorrow. He won’t be around when we have our family get-together in a couple of weeks.”

This shocked him and he came around in the afternoon. Thank goodness he did.

Jeff was having a good day, but that night he wasn’t great. He was bewildered and couldn’t rest, and at one stage we were on my bed and he turned, locked eyes with me and gave me ‘that’ look. Every dog owner who’s had an old dog knows what I’m talking about. I looked right back at him and said, “Ok, baby. I’ve got you.”

The appointment was for 6 pm the next day. The next morning we went to the beach so he could smell all the smells for the last time.

He rode there in his pram. As soon as I lifted him out of it, he lifted his leg on the pram, which made me laugh.

He pranced for about a metre in his old way, then stopped. It was too much trouble. Scout was busy chasing the ball and having dips in the sea, while Jeffrey just stood beside me and sniffed the breeze.

It was hard to get a good photo of him because whenever I moved away to get a shot of him, he’d come and sit within an inch of me.

Here he is, looking at his Mum.

We slowly walked to the foothills, where he indeed smelled all the smells and got some seaweed in his hair, then after a while I loaded him back in the pram and we walked home.

As I said, he thanked me one last time. It looks as if he’s smiling in this shot, but he was really trying to breathe easily.

We spent the afternoon on the couch, where he tried to settle. He couldn’t get properly to sleep all afternoon. Interestingly, Scout, who was never happy with Jeff cosying up to her, allowed him to be next to her for hours.

Davd31 came after work and we went to the vet together, while Georgia stayed with Scout. Apparently, Scout howled non-stop while we were gone. Georgia was a wreck by the time we got home.

Jeff had a beautiful death. He simply lay on the vet’s table and didn’t move, while I sang his silly song to him and talked to him as he drifted away. I said to David31, “Honestly, I’m relieved to see him at rest. He was so tired by the end of the day.”

We brought him home, lay him down so that Scout could sniff him and realise what had happened, then we buried him in the orchard next to his sister. He’s as close to Poppy as we could get. I sprinkled some poppy seeds over the top, so if any escape the birds, they’ll both have flowers to mark where they are.

I’ve owned Cavaliers for 41 years. I bought Poppy and Jeff’s great-great-great-great-grandmother when I was 20 and I’ve owned all the generations in between.

Jeffrey has been an occasionally exasperating dog – he was as dumb as a box of bricks – but he’s been an easy-going, loving boy who I’ll miss dreadfully. Scout isn’t a velcro dog. How will I be able to sit on the couch without a Cavalier glued to my side?

I feel so glad that he waited for me to come home and we had nearly two weeks together. All the boys came and said their goodbyes and he knew he was loved.

You were a good boy, Jeff. A very good boy.