My 12 year old Llewellin Setter Duke went to the Rainbow Bridge this past Monday morning. It's amazing how we dawg lovers allow these animals to become such an integral part of our life.

Duke was the 7th gun dawg I've owned in my 62 years. One might think that losing a dawg would get easier as you get older. It isn't. I cried all the way to the clinic, during the last 15 minutes of Duke's life while I was with him and his life-long vet, and all the way back home. Then I had to face a crying Carol and Grandma who both loved Duke dearly too. I intentionally left without them knowing that this was "the" trip for Duke. They woudn't have been able to deal with saying a final goodbye to him.

Dr. Jerry examined Duke, felt his pronounced chest tumors and, knowing that his stools had turned black recently, reassured me that this was Duke's time, irrespective of any other reasons.

Duke is now in a better place with other of my passed gun dawgs, only one of which he had the pleasure of knowing and hunting with. I'm sure that they will be running through the grassy cover again together. Just like the Bridge poem ... young and free of pain, happily running and playing together until that time when they both stop, look up, stare intently and they then hear a familar voice calling out ... "C'mon boys, hunt em up, good dawgs".

Here's Duke a few months ago just before Xmas, his favorite time of the year since he no longer was able to hunt. Duke, my yellar Lab Cappy, and I were discussing where to hide their "mommie and grandma's" presents.



And on a more serious note ... Duke in his younger years doing what he was bred to do ... and doing it very well ...

I feel your pain. It's no different than losing your best human friend. Hang in there.

Jim, I have been where you are 12 times in my life. Each time was a difficult one for me and I think that the more it happens the harder it is because each time I get a new dog I try to make things better for him than they were for the last one, each time I try to do things that I wish I'd done with the others. My first dog was just a little lap dog, a companion, then there were the hunting dogs who's only job was to hunt and the last 2 and the one I have now, they got the best of me we hiked together, I took them camping, to ball games at the park anything I did, they went there with me, and yes they hunted well too. I miss them all and I am grateful for the memories that they have left me. Sometimes when I am thinking about them and the times we shared I visit a website for inspiration. Thought maybe you would like to visit it too. Check this out-------http://www.petloss.com/poems/poems.htm

I had to put down my yellow Lab "Brandy" the day after Christmas. Hardest day that I think I will ever have. She was such a great hunter and was one of us when it came to hunting...not just a dog. My heart goes out to you but remember that this is the kindest thing that we could ever do for our best friend.

I've lost several good "friend's"...just tear's me up everytime. Never think anything can replace the bond's that we had....Then I get a new pup,....and from somewhere unknow...come's even a deeper passion for my new companion...When I remaniss about my late friend's....I still get that blue feeling in my stomach.....but then there's a new wet tounge, and tail wag...and life is good again with my new bud.