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Dog-gone joy, heartache

Pets don't ask for anything. Have a great day? They are there to share in your joy. Have a nightmarish day, the kind that seemingly won't end? They are there to help you deal with the pain.

Dogs are especially therapeutic. I've had three great dogs in my life. My childhood dog, Heidi, was 15 years old when we had to say goodbye. I was 4 when we got her and a sophomore in college when the Sheepdog, smart as a whip, died.

Bowser was my next dog. I saw an ad in the local newspaper for a free dog. I was living in Somersworth, N.H., at the time and starting a family. I won the Bowser sweepstakes after a series of interviews. Fantastic dog. Licked everyone so much I worried he would suffer dehydration.

Rarely sick, Bowser had a great run. The Labrador springer, sometimes mistaken for a Dalmation, was 14 when we had to put him down.

My latest dog was Will. I purchased the British black lab from a breeder in Lunenburg. I was looking for a six-month old dog. She brought me downstairs to the kennel and introduced me to Will, who was 18 months old. I was about to say I wanted a younger dog. Then he licked me in the face.

It was over. A couple of days later, I surprised Lyndsay and Erin. We went back to Lunenburg and I purchased Will. Funny thing, he never licked me in the face again. That was all right. He was one of a kind, the perfect family dog. He was a 100-pound teddy bear.

On Nov. 5, 2019, two years ago today, he suddenly became ill. He was undergoing congestive heart failure. He was 13 years old when we had to put him down. We still haven't gotten another dog. Will's a tough act to follow.


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