I am very saddened to report that my family dog, Browder, had to be put down. Browder was a yellow Labrador and had reached the ripe age of 13. Browder developed cancer in his abdomen about a year ago, which he recovered from after surgery. A month or so ago, the cancer came back and it was, once again, removed, though it was more invasive this time around. Sadly, it was not fully removed and, about a week ago, it started to make a really strong push forward. The cancer rather thoroughly overwhelmed poor Browder and he had to be put down yesterday.
When I last saw Browder, in early May, he had just had his most recent surgery and he seemed quite a bit more lively than I'd seen him be in years. It is my belief that, after the last surgery, he knew that he was on the way out and figured that he might as well live things up a bit with the time he had left. I'm so glad that I managed to get back east and see him one last time.
I am really going to miss that lazy old layabout. I remember so many times with him; it's hard to accept that he isn't anymore. I remember when he was young and would bring us things he found; he was an excellent retriever in spite of us never teaching him how. He once came home with a live baby owl gingerly held in his mouth; he caused the owl no physical harm, though I'm certain the shock ruined the poor little bird; he brought it in, placed it on the floor and looked at us for approval at the trophy he'd brought us. I remember when my brother, Joseph, was a toddler and he'd climb all over poor Browder, tormenting him as only a toddler can torment a dog; Browder would just lie there, gentle as could be putting up with it all. I remember visiting Tim Jessup place land in Norfolk, CT, taking a Sunfish out on the lake and sailing while Browder chased me around trying desperately to keep up; he wasn't a big fan of saltwater but he was a fantastic swimmer. Sure he'd steal food sometimes, sure his hair was everywhere, but man was he a good dog.
I can't write any more, it's too sad. I'm going to go cry myself to sleep.