My best friend “Pal” was a black lab mix. With a white chest with black spots, a little white on his snout, and
the tip of his tale. He first belonged to a good friend of mine, with whom I worked. She was the manager, and I the on site maintenance man for a townhouse rental community in Stockton Ca. Pal used to sometimes unlatch the back gate of the yard and come over, scrath on my door and just hang out.

Then after I had moved away, my friend got into a position where she could not keep Pal because of her new job. She called me to see if I would be able to take him. When I showed up to get him, he was so happy, he hopped right into my truck. Pal and I left California in 1995, to move back to the Chicago area, (Where I am from). What a sight, a loaded down 72 Ford Courier, Pal and I.

All we needed was grandma in the rockin chair, and it would have looked the the Beverly Hillbilly’s all over again. It was the first time he ever saw snow, and he like the fact that I could make endless balls for him to chase. He was a little confused at first though when he tried to pick them up. Several years ago, his health started to deteriorate, the vets could not figure it out, and he progressed to the point to where I finally had to have him put to sleep. It was just a couple of weeks before Christmas. He was my best friend, and I do still miss him. I miss the thumping of that big heavy tail pounding on the floor when I would come home. No matter how hard the world had kicked me in the butt that day, I had a friend waiting for me to let me know it would be OK.

Samuel from Il