This is a story about a dog. She came to us two years ago on my birthday, a potcake dog from St Lucia in need of a foster home. She had made herself unpopular with her previous foster parents by peeing in the house and chasing the cat. Although we already had four dogs, we didn’t have a cat, so we agreed to take her till she could find her forever home.

When we met Flo, she was a terrified little thing, tipping the scales at 25 pounds with a great big pitbull head – she was a comical sight indeed. The lady who dropped her off warned us that she peed on the other dogs’ bedding. This seemed a bit unusual.

Within twelve hours, it was obvious that something was very wrong with this girl, and it wasn’t a behaviour problem. She was desperately thirsty, and no amount of water could satisfy her. She drank two litres before bedtime, and would have drunk more if we’d offered it. Because she was too frightened to leave her crate, all we could do was stuff extra towels in with her to mop up the inevitable flood.

The next morning we were off to the vet’s. The diagnosis: advanced kidney disease. Blood tests, subcutaneous fluids, antibiotics, and special food all helped to bring her back to health. We knew the kidney damage was permanent and would limit her life expectancy, but she put on weight, her eye brightened, and we took her on as a permanent member of our family.

What a character she was! She’d greet her dad at the door with anything from a toy to a dog bed in her mouth. Her whole hind end would be wagging, and if a dog could smile, she was grinning from ear to ear. Anytime she wanted attention, she’d prance up to you showing off something she knew she wasn’t supposed to have — like a glove or a sock — and then scamper away. You were supposed to follow, and then she’d fling herself onto her back and refuse to let the thing go until you’d bribed her with the right amount of baby talk and love.

That little dog had a huge personality, and turned both of us into “small-dog people”. We called her our little ballerina because her big pitbull head was paired with a sleek and dainty body. When she trotted, she floated with the kind of suspension that would have made a dressage horse proud.

Like so many dogs from the Caribbean, her back story was sad. One day, one of the volunteers for the St. Lucia Animal Protection Society (SLAPS) heard a dog crying. Following the sound, she found Flo chained in a yard in the blazing sun with no shade, no food or water, trying to care for a litter of puppies. Daily visits with food and water followed, till one day, the intrepid volunteer cut the chain, picked Flo up, and ran. Flo and her puppies were taken to the Bruno Project shelter, looked after, and then flown to Canada to be adopted. After two interim foster homes, Flo came to us, and the rest is history.

A couple of weeks ago, Flo’s health began to fail. For three or four days in a row, she threw up her supper. She became dehydrated, so we began to administer subcutaneous fluids. She took the daily needle-poke stoically, resting contentedly in her dad’s lap. But when her zest for play turned into hours of dejected sleep, we knew her time was short. Last night she took a turn for the worse, and this morning, with many tears, we let her go.

Good-bye, little ballerina girl. Even with four other dogs, the house seems so empty. Your resiliency and happy heart are gifts we will treasure always.