Two years ago today my 15 year old black lab, Buck took his last breath. He had cancer and his kidneys were failing and we had him sceduled to be pts the next morning. I know now, but I didn't then, that that last look he gave me was a goodbye. I took him outside that morning and he went around to all the dogs (he was saying goodbye to them too) and he collapsed in front of his favorite bush. My parents got him from a breeder when I was one month old and he was two months older than me. I can't remember a time when I didn't know him. I shared everything with him and we did everything together. It still feels like a big part of me is missing when at night I look beside my bed and don't see him there. He was my protector, my soul mate, my very first dog. When I was a baby he let me ride on his back and I used him as a pillow as I got older. We grew up together and I love him very much. He would be the one I told all my secrets to and the one I would cry on if I had a bad day. He was always there, he always understood and he was always gentle. He took care of me and I took care of him. In his last days, when he became an old man, even though he was the same age as me in human years, I spoon fed him canned dog food. I don't know what finally got him, the cancer or the kidney failure, but I know he wanted to die at home, the place he loves, on his favorite spot. Our dog Lucky is his great-grandson and he looks exactly like him except for he has longer hair. He's gentle and quiet, he lets my nephew ride on his back, and when I look into his eyes it's like I'm looking into Bucks. I think he gave me a part of him back to me. It's been two years and I still miss him.
R.I.P Buck, You will be remembered always.
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