He may be dying but he hasn't changed his ways.

Our twelve and a half year old black lab has lymphoma. His lymph nodes are swollen and rock hard and the tumors seem to be growing leaps and bounds every day.

We decided to forego any treatment, he is a big, old dog and his time has come. He has led a happy, albeit, gluttonous life and we are sad to watch him go, but happy he has been such a part of our lives for so many years.

He was my first baby. Well, the rottweiler we had to give away was our first, but Lucas is the first baby that we kept. We picked him out of a litter of 9, all black. We drove home with him at eight weeks and raised him day by day.

We moved with him. And moved, and moved and moved (there are still not enough 'moves' in that sentence!). He was my walking buddy, I took him