I lost my best friend today; my black lab died unexpectantly; dropped dead of an apparent heart attack. I left to go to Marv's to cook Gumbo, and picked the Weedeater up, and there he was, tail wiggling, bright eyed as can be. Petted him, talked to him, and I walked out the gate. About thirty minutes later, my Mom calls, tells Marvin that I need to get home ASAP; she told Marvin what was wrong, but he did not tell me. Thank God for that.... Got home, and there is my Mom, pointing at him; crying, and she was lifting his head off the ground. He died in his tracks, chasining and running along the fence. Black Butt was 12 years old, and he lived a good life. He was a black lab. Marvin and I dug a a huge hole, and my Mom and Marvin wrapped in him plastic bags. That, I could not watch, and I could Not watch them put him in the ground. He is burried inside the yard, and I will get a marker for his grave. He was kind, and gentle, and asked nothing but to be loved, and a kind pat on the head, and to be put inside the utility room when ever it thundered. Thanks for letting me vent.