George came into our lives as a lively 10-week-old.

From the moment we met, I knew he was special.

I've had dogs all my life but George was "the one". Smart, handsome, loving and could catch a hare even on a bad day.

Unfortunately we ran George over when he was 10-months-old, resulting in him having his front, right leg removed.

This didn't stop our George.

Even on three legs he could outrun our other dogs and still catch rabbits.

Being a large dog, only having three legs put all of his joints under pressure.

He tore a ligament in one of his hind legs just before Christmas 2009 and spent the next eight weeks under confinement at our vets. It was the longest eight weeks of my life.

Arthritis was now starting to take over George's joints and he returned home to a life inside. Not that it worried George and I loved it.

He was my friend that I could talk to and he never judged or told me I was wrong.

With my youngest starting school he also filled the "empty nest".

George's joints were getting worse and we started him on some pretty heavy duty pain medication which left him sleepy most of the time. He was not a happy boy.

My husband and I had "the talk", was it fair on George to exist like this or should we see what the next three months brought?

Those months brought good and bad days but the worst was on September 4.

The Darfield earthquake changed our George forever. He cried with fear when I left the room. He barely even wanted to go outside.

The vet suggested we medicate George more heavily. It was decision time for George, one that was the most humane but the one that broke my heart.

George was put to sleep on September 13, 2010.

I stayed with him, held him and told him I how much I loved him. We took him home and buried him in his favourite blanket.

I miss George everyday and his photo has pride of place on our family photo wall. No better friend was George.

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