Freya

The smallest member of our family died tonight. Suffering from something mysterious and unknown, she has stumbled through the last few months but, finally, has succumbed. She looked so peaceful.

How well I remember, back in 2015 when we first met her. She could have fitted into a tea cup and was way too cute for her own good.

Mirinda described her as our happiest dog with the waggiest tail, always looking for a lap to curl up on. She was always very licky too.

Of course, there was the problem with her breath, caused by her rotten teeth but that was sorted by the amazing dog dentist while we were in Lymington. She managed to survive that particular trauma.

At least she had a final time on the boat this week. She seemed to perk up a bit, sitting in the prow on my lap then walking along the beach at Askö.

She lived a very adventurous life, crossing seas and driving through Europe more than a few times. And she was an excellent little traveller. Well, apart from the constipation. She would never poop until we had stopped somewhere for longer than a night. I think she needed to feel safe.

While there are so many things I will miss about our little monkey, I will especially miss her quokka dance; the crazy little bouncing for joy thing she did whenever we returned to our house, here in Trosa. She loved it here.

I think, if you are going to die, it should be somewhere you feel comfortable. Freya achieved that.

I am going to miss her a lot.

Sleep long and well, Freya.