We had to put Ruby down today. She was a beagle with a huge personality, and my family’s dog for the past 12 years.
It all started when I was 9 years old. My sister and I made signs and picketed out the front of our house—petitioning our parents to get us a dog.
Almost a decade later, my mum finally relented. To be honest, I don’t know why we chose a beagle, but it was probably the ears. Beagles have the best ears.
Ruby was mischievous, sassy, and strong willed from day one. She’d always find a way on to the couch, and when you told her to get off, she’d conveniently look the other way—pretending like she couldn’t hear.
Once I left New Zealand in 2013, my annual reunion with Ruby became a thing. Upon arriving at Mum and Dad’s house, I’d get down on all fours, and Ruby would run over, nuzzle into my face, and whimper for a full minute as I greeted her.
Every morning and evening, you could find Ruby on my dad’s lap. She’d sit expectantly until he put her special blanket on his lap and she could jump up, settle in, and take a nap.
Dogs allow us to see and experience a pure form of love. They turn up every day with a wagging tail and are overjoyed to just be together. That was Ruby for our family.
Run free, Ruby.
