Senior Alex Thompson

This past November we had to have our fourteen year old Golden Retriever euthanized; there were no other options, and although we all knew that, it was a day that remains dim for our family.

Thompson was my friend; he liked everyone he came across as well as all those who came across him.

I remember a bit of a poem I heard many years ago, but I can not reference it properly. To its author, I apologies, but it has provided me solace.

“Old dog, old dog, come and lay your head upon my knee.

Dear God, Dear God, let this poor dog go and live in peace.”

Newton

My big yellow dog holds the key to my heart.

She’s good through and through, although not very smart.

She taught us all lessons of courage and love, and she’s still keeping watch on us from far, far above.

Our boy asked me on day, “Why’s she always that way? When I give her my love, she just gives it away.”

“She can’t help the fact that her heart’s made of gold.”

“I know” he said sadly, “Dad, don’t let her get old.”

Our big yellow dog had to leave us one day, but she’s here deep inside, where for good she will stay.

15 October 2001: A buddy of mine at work had to put his Yellow Lab down. His dear dog, Newton, was fourteen and a true friend to all who met her. According to my friend, she was not the brightest dog to ever sit around the house all day, but to him and his family she was a great blond.