Our dog Jesse died yesterday just four months shy of his fourteenth birthday.He was a 120 pound lab/catahula mix. We got him as a puppy from a farmer in Minnesota whose herding dog had had a litter of twelve. Jess  had a wonderful life, running on eighty acres, swimming in  Minnesota lakes, keeping us company while we tapped trees for maple syrup, chasing deer and anything else that ran from him.  We endured run ins with skunks, several vet visits for minor injuries, and  the ailments that come with old age. In town, he was the love of our neighborhood, the gentle giant as everyone called him.  When his death was imminient, neighbors came by and brought him special treats.  Everyone seemed to have their own knowledge of what my dog loved. Apparently, he had his own fan club going on as he sat on his throne (aka dog pillow) in the opened garage and received visitors everyday. He is the third dog I have had and all have lived past twelve years of age.  I know that my grief will past and another dog will someday come into our home. But for right now, my heart is broken.

— Polly from Fargo, ND