He was crazy and full of energy, with plenty of weird habits and paranoia. He was afraid of hairdryers and cameras. He only drank his water when he was absolutely sure no one was looking at him. He once ate an entire cherry cake while we were away at the cinema. When he got bigger, he digested the wicker basket he had slept in as a puppy. And from the time he was tiny til the day he left us, he never mastered the concept of retrieving the ball.

He was also full of love and loyalty. He could always read emotions. He comforted me whenever I got upset. He loved his kisses and cuddles. On his walks, he had no off switch. He would run and run until he wore himself out, but he would always look behind him to make sure we were still with him.

When I eventually finished school and headed off to college, it broke my heart to leave him. When I came home for weekends, the thing I looked forward to most was being greeted by him when I walked in the door, and the thing I dreaded about going back was seeing him miserable when I said goodbye.

On Thursday 17 October, my world shattered. I came home from college on the bus that evening, a three-hour journey. I walked in the door and as soon as I mentioned Jake's name, my sisters looked at each other with concerned expressions, and I knew immediately that something was wrong. Jake was in the vet's after his hind legs collapsed. He was unable to walk. He was referred to a specialist for a spinal scan. Over the next couple of weeks I hoped and prayed, but somewhere in the back of my mind I had a horrible feeling that we were coming to the end of the road.

Concentrating on college was agony over those next three weeks. Every time the phone rang, I had a sick feeling in my stomach. All the tests the vet was doing were coming back negative, but still my dog wasn't walking. He was getting worse, unable now to even sit up at all. It was a Monday evening when I got a text from my dad, asking me to come on Skype because he had news about Jake. My stomach turned. I knew.

After hearing that he had a rare neurological disease and there was nothing they could do, my heart broke. I sobbed and sobbed. The arrangement was made that I would go home that Friday and we would all go to see him one last time before he was put to sleep.

When I saw him, I was shocked at how much of his muscle had wasted away. He was so thin. I hugged, kissed and petted him and told him that I loved him and would never forget him. I thanked him for being the best birthday present I had ever been given, and I told him I was so sorry for all this suffering he had been through. He didn't deserve it. 

I will never forget how calm he was in those last moments. It was as if he knew. He rested his head in my hand and lay there for several minutes. He did this with each of us one by one, as if saying goodbye to us all. I had never seen him like this before, and I will never forget it. Before long, the vet asked us if we were ready to let him go. I knew I would never be ready, but I knew it had to happen. After a minute or two, she said, "He's gone." I held onto his collar all the way home in the car, taking in his smell.

My heart aches every morning when I wake up and remember that he's gone. Life without him is so incredibly painful. Each day I wonder where he is and whether he is at peace. The most important thing is that he knew we loved him so much, and we know he loved us.

My beautiful Jake, there will never be another like you. I will miss you every day for the rest of my life. Thank you for the most wonderful 10 years anyone could ever have had.