Not sure how I didn't find this post 'til just now...big dog guy.
Something about Labs...they will worm their way into your heart (frankly, every dog will to one degree or another) and never leave.
We moved to Phoenix the first time in 2002 from So Cal. My wife's two conditions were simple: a house with grass in the yard and a puppy. The house came first in less than 6 months but the puppy took a little more time.
The following year we were at a church ministry event up in Prescott Valley when one of the local church families arrive with a lab puppy to let folks in their church body know they had a new litter of available pups. My wife asked to pet her, she fell asleep in her arms and the rest was history.
Like most labs, Lacy was all energy and loved to get into trouble. She chewed everything she could get her paws on, swiped food off the counter and did all the things that you think of when you think of a stereo-typical Labrador Retreiver. She even swallowed a sock and once broke out of her crate, went into every room in the house, chewed on something in each and locked her self in the downstairs bathroom for the rest of the day until we got home. Talented dog.
Three years ago just a few days before Christmas and just a day after my birthday we had to put her down. She'd developed multiple lipomas and while none were a malignant growth, one had gotten so big it was about to rupture or would have to be removed. We couldn't justify the cost of the surgery and difficult recovery for a 14 1/2 yr old dog so we put her down.
The biggest struggle was that we'd just had her for so damn long...we'd been married 18 years at that point and she'd been a part of the family for nearly 15 of those. At one point we'd been told that we would likely never have kids on our own or without prohibitive costs.
She lived long enough, along with the other two we'd added over the years to see the birth of our miracle baby in 2015. And while we tried to never be 'those people' she and the other pups had become our kids, granted with four legs instead of two. She was central to everything about our lives as a family.
The hardest thing for me was the hole I sensed where she'd been; I couldn't hardly remember the three years before she arrived.
While time blunts the pain, even though your loss is five-plus years ago I'm sure it still hurts. I'm so sorry.
View attachment 43404
