Now, I am not the type of person who gets super attached to her dogs. I just have never been because my dad breeds and trains dogs, so they've always been coming and going from my house. However, because of this close contact with dogs, I understand how some people come to treat them as their children.

While we've always had lots of dogs at my dad's, one has always been "mine". Jeb. A black lab. A really good hunter, not that that mattered to me, but my dad enjoyed that about him. I loved him because he was pretty and he was well behaved and mellow but got excited about retrieving and he liked swimming and cuddling with me. And for protecting me. As mellow as he was, if he thought someone was going to hurt me, oh boy. He started growling at my dad once because we were rough housing and I screamed, and though he knew my dad's friends, when one of them came into the house one morning when I was the only one home and still sleeping, Jeb barked like crazy.

You've probably figured out from all this past tense talk that Jeb's not alive anymore. He died last weekend, and because I rarely get to my dad's to see him anymore it wasn't super sad for me. But I did love that dog, and next time I go to my dad's I will miss him. And because of that I felt a need to mention him.

Rudolph, my doberman who I also love, and Jeb, walking across a bridge together. They're friends.

Yeah, these dogs live the pampered life. I sleep there too.

My friend Leslie's yellow lab had to be put to sleep the same weekend Jeb died, so we were commiserating together about the loss of our furry friends. She sent me this link on facebook.

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