High Sierra Topix

She's the one on the right. This was taken before Cushings ravaged her systems several years ago. I miss her. Did the final walk with her and the shot. She never backpacked with me as she got sick before I was to outfit her. She did duck hunt with me regularly. Loved to swim.

Now I'm stuck with what's on the left. Bubba is a kick in the ass but wants to know where his sister is. They were the same age. 10.2

Russ

So sorry for your loss Russ. There never are any good words for this, truly one of life's difficult experiences by way of losing mans best friend. No doubt she enjoyed a great life with you and it's those memories that will persist beyond the grieving.

Rest in Peace Samantha.

Mans best friends is the perfect description for these great companions! They bring
us so much joy and happy memories which we will cherish forever. May Samantha
rest in peace.

Sorry for your loss, Russ.

As the dog lover that I am, I feel your pain. Thank you for posting a picture of her.

Very sorry Russ. When you have to put down a longtime pet, it always ends up being a lot harder to deal with than one anticipates.

Thanks guys for the kind words..

I feel the pain. Had a golden for 17yrs. Was a constant companion and fished with me. We had a going away party a few days before so all that knew him could come and "say goodbye". I eyes well up a bit now as I write this. I remember dropping him off; was speechless and sobbing. He was a gift from my wife for my 30th bd.

What a bummer rlown.

In situations like this there is "Nuthin' left to do, but smile smile smile"

Dang Russ.....Sorry to hear that!
You know how I feel about my lab. My eyes are welling up as I write this too. My lab is getting up there in years, she’s been a better friend and companion than most two legged critters. My 6yr old just got done reading where the Red Fern Grows with mom. I have a hard time putting it to words (the connection between a man and his hunting dog). Sorry for your loss. I like the poem below. Just remember, she’s probably sitting in that ole duck blind in the sky thinking to herself, thank God I don’t have to worry about that guy getting me all excited then missing!

My old bird dog
It's the first day of season,
He knows it for many reasons.
Up before first light,
He always begins to excite,
looking for clues,
he carefully studies what I do.
Is this a false alarm? He watches my pick,
YES! It's the thunder stick!
Another year gone by,
he anxiously begins to cry.
A new year and the first day,
many birds to find, we pray.
I see his face so well,
as headlights reflect a guard rail.
In the truck while its dark,
I glance at his face, so gray mark'd.
His eyes wide,
fill'd with pride,
my old huntin' buddy by my side.
Ridin' with his master,
'can we get there any faster?'
Down the road we go,
memories, they begin to flow.
Cherishing hunts of the past,
thoughts of great times, forever last.
My buddy is old and his days are few,
my eyes water as I don't know what to do,
without my buddy, so loyal and true.
Though his body tires easily from years,
we will hunt with joy and shed no tears.
We hunt as one,
'til life says, 'you're done'!
I'd like to think that the man upstairs,
has a bird huntin' place, the answer to our prayers...
There we hunt in perfect autumn weather,
so many birds, still together.

Author, Dave Jones, inspired by a seasons first hunt and my old dog 'Chief'