Had to scan this one in.
The Rott was the sweetest dog, Jake was his name. My brothers and I adopted him, actually we stole him from an abusive friend of ours. The friend didn't own the dog, but was "taking care of him" while a third party (the owner) left him behind for the summer. He was subjected to harsh environments, ie. locked in a hot garage, and beaten. When we first got him, he was a basket case. He didn't trust people, and it took time to even get him to come up to us. With a little love, he would, but would piss on the floor the whole way. Eventually that habit subsided and he was as normal as a dog could be. For a Rottweiler he was very docile. He went through some tough times though. After numerous trip to the vet, and cortisone shots to control his constant itching, we enlisted another vet. She didn't want to take him in because of her policy of not treating breeds notoriously associated with being aggressive. After some persuasion, the vet relented and arrived at the house. She spotted his ailment as as soon as she saw him, he was hypoallegenic. After a few tests, she told us to stay away from a diet with beef tallow. Problem solved. The vet changed her policy and loved to come see Jake, he was one of her favorites. Sadly he had to be put down in 2004, by the same vet. Had 10 good years with him, and was estimated to be 13-14 years old.
The lab, Haley couldn't have been but 3-4 month old in the picture. Another great dog. My brother and I picked her out of litter when she was about a week old, and then waited until she could eat on her own, that's about 5 weeks old. I pretty much raised her for the first 7 years of her life. Although not my dog financially, I named her and cared for her until my brother and I moved in separate ways. Three years later we would reunite, although not living together, I spent nearly every day around Haley. A few days ago, my brother calls, mentioned that she was not well, and that if I wanted, I might stop by to visit. As soon as I walked in the door, she started wagging her tail, something she hadn't done in a few days. She couldn't walk anymore, lost her appetite and was confined to a doggie bed. The same aforementioned vet came out the following day, gave her opinion, but said she might be wrong. The next day, I take her to another vet recommend by the first (one I have had miracles with in the past, but that's another story), it was cancer in her rear leg and had spread.
Yesterday, Thursday October 31, the vet came back to the house and put her down. She was 14, born September 5, 1999. I knew she was going to be put down and was literally sick to my stomach all day. I didn't go to see her pass. I couldn't do it.
Luckily, Haley will live on through my dog, her daughter.
Sorry for the long rant, I haven't had the chance to mourn, and am balling my eyes out as I type.
RIP Jake and Haley. I have missed and will miss you dearly.