We just lost our baby, Popper, a mixed Labrador, of 9 years, 5 months (May 1998-October 2007). We are still in shock and mourning. We found last month that he had an inoperable tumor, and Monday 15 October we did right by him and released him to God's embrace.

The first time we ever met him, he was just three months old and thirty five pounds. We were at a rescue shelter, and he came out and peed on my wife's feet. At that moment, I knew that any creature that happy to see her was right for us. He loved us and provided companionship to our family. He guarded our home and family with a super sized heart, as well as his bark. When we come home at the end of the day these past few days, the emptiness is overwhelming.

But over the last few days we have had those many up and down moments. I can remember how angry he got as a puppy when I would let him in my office while I need to work quietly, or, how much he terrorized our cats, much to his own delight.

I found time yesterday evening (18 October) to write in my journal, and to my surprise that I had also written about him on 18 October 1999. Funny how those things run in life.

Due to my own illness and stress, my wife decided to proceed to release him. But the next day, as I was napping, there was a loud crunch against the bedroom door, just like Popper used to do when he wanted to get into the room with us. I hope and believe that he was telling me in his own way that he was alright and that he knew we loved him dearly by caring enough not to make him suffer.

I know I am rambling at the moment but there are those moments in time when you remember the little things. I used to call him Labradorous Rex....he started to suffer from a failing thyroid in his third year and became supersized....but he never complained. When he sat on your feet, you knew he was there, and bless his heart, he often tried to be a lap dog. Our then teenaged daughter raised him for the first three years....we haven't told her yet as we are still processing it all.

I told someone about my feelings....saying that Popper was now healthy young and still retained his troubled puppy ways, with a sly grin. I also said that God had called him home after he saw how much fun we had had. I was pointed to this site by a friend and wanted to make sure I would remember Popper as lovingly even when the pain diminishes.

This is not farewell to Popper but, as in one of my favorite quotes, a loving remembrance, drawn from the Greeks:

The ancients Greeks held a belief
that on some opposite shore
far from anger, hurt, fear, and grief
old friends will meet once more

Here is to Popper, friend, family member, beloved companion