My Labrador was meant to live forever.

Labradors are meant to live forever, aren't they?

Forever being 12 or so years at least.

In the perfect world maybe.

But not in mine.

Letting go of a hound that means the world to you, 

and that has seen you through chaos you never would have expected to face, 

is one of the most difficult decisions I’ve ever had to make.

It all happened SO quickly.
One week from diagnosis to decision.
My beautiful girl was in pain
and I couldn't allow it to continue.

She was my best friend in a furry coat.
My rambling companion.
My photographic buddy.
An ever-present bum waggling presence in my life.

A legendary hound.

We shared SO many adventures.

So many SUNSETS on the beach

SUNRISES too numerous to count.
This image was the last sunrise we watched together and conveys so much.
The bond we shared goes beyond words.

Rugby balls were always her 'thing'

... unless there happened to be a log on the beach.
Logs took preference even over rugby balls.
Especially if they were humungous logs.

Many were the times I'd walk down the beach 
with her plaintively wailing for my help to pick up a log.
Many were the times others succoumbed to that wail,
and she'd trot gleefully down the beach with an enormous log
 that some random passerby had helped her pick up.

She was special.
And she knew it.

Sam was her best 4-legged friend
He was one of the few hounds 'allowed' to help carry a log.
She would grunt and growl to deter him,
and swing her head from side to side.

It worked with rugby balls
but not with these huge logs.

He'd eventually get a grip
and she'd grudgingly let him help her carry it ashore.

Rambling with her by my side gave me no end of pleasure.
I never minded the wet legs and the wet shoes 
from the shower shakes she shared with me.
They were EPIC.
Water droplets EVERYwhere!

On my days off we'd travel further afield.
She loved our adventures and making new friends.

We'd ramble far and wide, for hours on end.
On beaches and in the waves.

Along waterways and estuaries. 

Through parks and reserves.

As long as there was a water source wherever we rambled, she was a happy hound.

Cow troughs at Churchill Park come to mind.

As do the fountains at the Domain.

Those who've never had a special relationship with a dog 
cannot understand the impact this girl had on my life.

She bought SO much joy.

Not only to me, but to so many others too.

She filled a hole in my life that I didn’t know I had.  

Her passing has left the hugest of voids 
and an ache in my heart that is quite unlike anything I’ve ever felt before.

It’s in that ache though that I take solace.  

It reminds me to live life in the moment, as she did.

To find joy in the little things.

To value each experience as it happens.

And to see the beautiful in the ordinary.

This girl taught me so much.

 She helped me climb mountains that I never thought I would conquer. 
She was, and will always be, MY girl.