Sitting on the sofa, with my Cockapoo, Stella, next to me, she placed her nose on the left-hand side of my chest. It was odd – she’d never done that before.
‘Come here, you,’ I said, fussing over her, thinking she wanted attention. It was April 2019, and we’d had her for two years. We affectionally called her Stelly Belly and she ruled our household. My husband, Paul, now 56, adored her and our grown-up sons, Zac and Charlie, made a fuss of her whenever they visited.
Life was busy for us. I was the headteacher of a special needs school in Birmingham, running craft fairs, juggling family life and of course, looking after Stella. Over the following weeks, Stella kept doing the same thing – putting her nose or…
