The End of a Run

Our wonderful yellow Lab, Gable, died yesterday around 4 PM. I am very sad. He was truly my most very favorite of our six dogs that we've had. He always had quiet dignity (unless he was chasing down something that didn't belong in our yard!)

The other three dogs that lived with him over the years knew that they could run out or swim out after the Frisbee but they absolutely could NOT touch it. That was Gable's job and no dog should ever think otherwise.

Gable was named after Dan Gable, an Olympic wrestler, because of his tendency to trip other dogs by reaching around in front of their leg and tripping them as a wrestler would. In this photo from awhile ago, he is "smiling." Something he did when we would say, "Gable, are you a bad dog?" He loved veggies. The only food he didn't eat recently was an offered basil leave which he spit out. Carrots and green beans were his favorites and I had to fence both of those crops to keep him out.

I miss him, but know that he was just barely holding on. His weight while once a proud 95 muscular pounds had plummeted to 61. He was skeletal. I asked doc Martin how old a 16 year old dog was in people years and he said that it was off the chart so that we could be proud of how well we had taken care of him for him to last that long. That and probably very good genes.

There is a big hole in my heart. On the relationship scale he was at the very top.