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Not a good day.


Scully
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Walter, the old boy, has gone. 
He was a huge Drakes head black lab’ belonging to my partner, and despite being from working stock had never been out shooting when I first met him when he was six. 
When he galloped past you at full pelt he made a sound like a horse race, and would sometimes forget how many legs he had when turning at speed and end up in a tangled crash! 
He loved water to the extent it was hard to get him out, and loved peeling laminated roadkill and sheep cleansings off the tarmac! 
The first shot I fired on his first time syndicate day he ran off and tried to dig his way out of the field, and I thought ‘Oh well, that’s that then’, especially as he then got zapped by an electric fence! I persevered however, and the next time I took him I looked round for him on my peg, to see him laid down just behind me, totally relaxed. 
His training, if you can call it that, was very much on the job, as away from the shoot he just wanted to play, but he turned into a wonderful gun dog. 
I once shot five birds on a peg, all of which landed in the woods behind me. When the horn sounded at the drives end I sleeved my gun, picked up my empties and said to him ‘Right big lad, let’s go and find them birds,’ only to find all five of them no more than two yards away behind me. 
Another memorable time our team were waiting to beat when a shot rang out and a cock pheasant bounced on the tarmac road and bounced out of sight into the gutter/hedgerow, maybe 50 yards away. Walt turned to look at me, I looked at him and then said, ‘Go on Walt. Fetch’. And off he went, disappeared into the undergrowth, picked it and brought it straight back to hand. 
He’s swum in most of the Lakeland lakes, the sea off Allenby, Bamburgh, Carrick Bay and Silloth, and generally had a good life. 
Three years ago we acquired Belle, a much smaller framed black lab’, and at ten years old she became his nemesis, pestering the life out of him at every opportunity. We saw in him however, a renewed vigour he seemed to have lost, and they played and tormented each other for all of those three years in which he became very protective of her, despite her trying to pinch his food relentlessly. He had the patience and temperament of a saint, and on our trips out we installed a ramp so he could get in and out of the Landrover. 
Up until yesterday he was having two walks per day, albeit very short ones as his back end was getting weaker. 
I took them both to the paddock this morning, but even before then I knew something was wrong; he just stood there staring into space. I managed to get him back to the house but he wasn’t interested in his breakfast, and I watched his back end slowly go down, and there it stayed. His breath was laboured and we put his bed underneath him and called the vet. 
He wasn’t a noisy dog but the house seems so quiet nonetheless. 
He’s buried in the paddock with a deflated football… his favourite type of football. He punctured them about two minutes after getting them, and even though they didn’t bounce he still expected us to kick them for him to retrieve. 🤷‍♂️

He would have been fourteen in May. 

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Fourteen is good age for a Labrador and he have had a very good life , we have all been through the dogs final days and it never get any easier , if anything it get harder , my dogs have been a huge part of my life and I often walk past where every one of mine is buried , I now dread the thought in making that decision when my ole dog who is now well past his peak and is now sound asleep on our leather settee   , sadly making the final decision is all part of the package of owning the dog and you know when the time is right and is also the right decision .  R I P Walt . 

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So sad to read, but thanks for posting.
After many Labs and a couple of Cockers I know how hard it is at the end. And it never gets any easier, no matter how often you have to make the decision. 
I got quite emotional reading your story.

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Scully what an obituary for your mate it’s plain to se that the two of you had that bond it’s going to hurt for a while.

Try and raise a smile about the good times you had over the years .

rip walter swim as much as you want in dog heaven I am sure they will have a few balls to puncture!

Agriv8

 

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