Kali – Best Dog In The World

On Monday evening we said goodbye to Kali; no words can describe how heartbroken we are or how empty the house already feels without her.

While her kennel name was Glenbriar Catch A Star, to us, she was Kali – or Kali Rose when she was in trouble. She came into our lives in February 2009, not long after we’d lost our beautiful Bella. While we weren’t looking to fill the gap so soon, having been born on the day we received the diagnosis that would take Bella from us, Kali seemed fated to be ours and heal our hearts. She brought joy into our family from the moment she arrived, with a grin on her face and her tail constantly wagging.

As a puppy, she was a super-cute thief, but other than flip-flops (where she’d chew out the rubber plugs from the left thong only), she wasn’t destructive; she just liked to carry things. Carrying things is, after all, what cocker spaniels are bred to do. It’s why we hung bells on the bottom row of the Christmas tree so we’d know when she was dragging presents out to carry back to her bed. It’s also why I only packed suitcases when she wasn’t around, as she was known to unpack for me.

I can still see her trotting past with her head up, her tail wagging, something in her mouth (socks, garden gloves, whatever I just dropped), and a “nothing to see here” look on her face.

I can also still see her covered in custard that time Sarah stuck a spoon into the ice cream mix while it was churning on the KitchenAid. The custard was sprayed all over the kitchen—but mainly on Kali. She had a massive grin on her face, me not so much – at the time, anyway.

For the last 7 ½ years while I worked from home, Kali sat by my feet in my office. Each morning at 8 a.m., she’d wait at the stairs when it was time to climb the six stairs to my office; at 12 p.m., she’d let me know it was time to break and take her for a lunchtime walk; and then, at the end of the working day, she’d tell me when she thought it was time to log off.

As an employee she slept on the job, snoring loudly through TEAMS meetings – although I didn’t blame her for that, there were plenty I would have liked to snore through too – but as Chief Engagement Officer in the Buderim office, she well and truly exceeded her targets.

My finishing the day job late last year coincided with her slowing down. No longer did she want to climb the stairs—her hearing had gone a year ago and her sight was now failing. While she could see light and dark and shapes, she couldn’t see the stairs. Going up was not an issue, but she had problems going back down without my help to stop her falling. It wasn’t long before she decided she wasn’t going up them either and made it clear that she thought we should now be working from the dining table, so that’s what we did. Instead of being curled up by my desk, she now curled up in the corner – Kali had a mat in every corner. Instead of our daily walks, she wanted just to go down to the end of the block and sniff about, so that’s what we did.

Despite being nearly 16, up until last week, she was still doing zoomies and the cocker spaniel equivalent of a double somersault with triple half-pike at dinner time. Afterwards, she’d rampage barking around the backyard so everyone would know she’d eaten and that it had been to her satisfaction.

About six weeks ago we had a scare with her – always a good eater, due to a stomach issue she lost her appetite and her wag overnight. Told by the vet to expect bad news, blood tests were taken and ultrasounds completed. Her heart was declared strong and her test results showed everything else in excellent shape for a lady of her advanced years. A night in hospital and she was back to normal-ish. Her appetite was back, dinner zoomies were back, midnight rampages were back. Briefly.

Then, last Wednesday, we came home from our early morning walk to find her huddled and shivering in the dark under the table outside, unable to get to the warmth of her bed. She couldn’t stand or walk, and her head was tilted to one side. This, we thought, was it, but the vet told us Kali had sudden-onset vestibular syndrome—like vertigo—and might make a full recovery in 3-5 days.

She didn’t.

Her decline was sudden – and swift – and she’s left a massive Kali-shaped hole in our lives.

Anyone who has been loved by a dog will think they have the best dog in the world, but Kali was ours. I was the centre of her universe – as long as she knew where I was, all was right in her world – and she was just as important to me.

Kali Rose Tracey aka Adventure Spaniel and Best Dog In The World

3/11/08 – 17/6/24

Author: Jo

Author, baker, sunrise chaser

36 thoughts

  1. Sorry but this post should have come with a Kleenex necessary warning 😦 I’m heartbroken for you, Grant and Sarah and am sending you a big hug. I hope Kali is doing zoomies over the rainbow bridge and knows how lucky she was to have you as her hoomans. I know that you know how lucky you were to have the bestest girl. Lots of love to you guys xx

  2. sending you all so much love 💕 Your Kali sounded a true character and a perfect companion. Our furry friends become such an important part of our lives and leave a terrible void when they are gone.

  3. My heart breaks for you Jo. I have no doubt Kali was your best dog in the world. I always loved seeing her on the socials, curled up beside you as you worked. You gave her a wonderful life. I’m sure we will all miss her. Take care xx

  4. I had to momentarily interrupt my blogging break (sorry, Mom) to read this post. It is beautifully written and definitely should come with a kleenex warning. My heartfelt sympathy to you, Grant and Sarah.

  5. Our last dog, Lucky, ended up with the same disease and did make a full recovery. I am so sorry Kali didn’t. The empty house is so hard.

  6. Hi Jo, I couldn’t read this post without crying. I’m so sorry for your loss. It’s so hard isn’t it? As a dog mum myself, I feel your pain and the emptiness that the lack of their presence brings. I’ve lost three dogs in my adult life so far. Each of them loved dearly as if my human child. They are an integral part of the family. My current dog Ava is 11 and has a heart condition for which she is medicated so I know the time left with her is limited. You have my sympathy and as I said on the socials, what helps me is taking comfort in the fact that a beautiful life was provided to them and Kali sure did have a beautiful and happy life with you and your family! Thanks for linking up with #WWWhimsy and take care! xo

  7. Ahhhh, a dog’s only flaw…they don’t ever live long enough 😢. I’ve been through vestibular syndrome with my late Lucy – it is agonizing to have to watch them struggle.

    I’m so sorry for you and your family’s loss of such a treasured family member, Jo. Try to take comfort in your memories of Kali. If you believe in an afterlife, she will be waiting for you there along with Bella.

    Big hugs,

    Deb

  8. It’s the day we all dread. Your loss is devastating, and your tribute is lovely. Try to remember all the joy you gave her, and what a lucky dog she was to be loved so deeply by her humans. It is never easy. I’m glad it wasn’t too drawn out in the end, pain wise for her. Though I guess that makes it more of a shock for you all.

  9. What a beautiful tribute to Kali, Jo. I know it is devasting losing one of your close family. You have some wonderful memories which in time you will be able to revisit without quite so much pain in your heart. Take care , my friend, Kali was lucky to have you as her ‘Mum’ xx

  10. Oh Jo (and family) that was both a heart warming and heart wrenching read. I am so sorry that Kali is gone. Many, many memories here and so glad you could capture them over the years…and I noted (teacher me) I think S in a Samuel Gilbert PS uniform…sigh, so long ago too.

    Much love,

    Denyse x

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