Sea Speed said:

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Our sweet girl Vela passed away this afternoon while we are on vacation. Got her the week my wife, then fiance, moved to tx 11 years ago from some people that didn't want her. She was super scared of men and would pee any time I tried to pet her for the first 6 months. I surmise the previous owner beat her. She is the only lab on earth that hated water so much she wouldn't even walk on wet grass, unless we were at the beach where she would play with our other lab in about 5" of water. She had a good life. Just this morning she got out and went on a self guided tour of the property as she was wont to do. Passed peacefully in the grass in the backyard. We will bury her by the pond tomorrow.

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Sea Speed, sorry to hear about the loss of your sweet Vela. It sounds like y'all gave her a wonderful life.
No Matter how long we are fortunate enough to have a dog in our lives, it is NEVER long enough

carpet shark



making sure no snacks are brought upstairs without her approval

I'm so sorry, Sea Speed.

I'm glad she passed at her home.

Of Dogs and Men

"It would have been better if men and dogs grew from boyhood and puppyhood together, and in so doing pass on together. However, nature is not so ordered. So long as there are dogs and men, dogs will die and men will weep for them." - Burton Spiller

I'm always reminded of 'Epitaph to a Dog' by Lord Byron, one of my favorite things on earth, especially the opening.

Near this Spot
are deposited the Remains of one
who possessed Beauty without Vanity,
Strength without Insolence,
Courage without Ferosity,
and all the virtues of Man without his Vices.
This praise, which would be unmeaning Flattery
if inscribed over human Ashes,
is but a just tribute to the Memory of
BOATSWAIN, a DOG,
who was born in Newfoundland May 1803
and died at Newstead Nov. 18th, 1808.

When some proud Son of Man returns to Earth,
Unknown to Glory but upheld by Birth,
The sculptor's art exhausts the pomp of woe,
And storied urns record who rests below:
When all is done, upon the Tomb is seen
Not what he was, but what he should have been.
But the poor Dog, in life the firmest friend,
The first to welcome, foremost to defend,
Whose honest heart is still his Master's own,
Who labours, fights, lives, breathes for him alone,
Unhonour'd falls, unnotic'd all his worth,
Deny'd in heaven the Soul he held on earth:
While man, vain insect! hopes to be forgiven,
And claims himself a sole exclusive heaven.
Oh man! thou feeble tenant of an hour,
Debas'd by slavery, or corrupt by power,
Who knows thee well, must quit thee with disgust,
Degraded mass of animated dust!
Thy love is lust, thy friendship all a cheat,
Thy tongue hypocrisy, thy heart deceit!
By nature vile, ennobled but by name,
Each kindred brute might bid thee blush for shame.
Ye! who behold perchance this simple urn,
Pass on, it honors none you wish to mourn.
To mark a friend's remains these stones arise;
I never knew but oneand here he lies.

Supervising the fence crew

This usually ends up with cute sucking sounds.

Penny is getting to be a bit of an old lady now…she still hates pictures, though

half-time and third quarter walkies

I wholeheartedly agree with this.
Both of my dogs are rescues

Welp looks like I can't go back to work until this sleeping angel wakes up

Went home for lunch today. Almost didn't make it back. Rainy weather makes me useless.

The fiance's blackmouth cur enjoying the sun with mine