Our last yellow labrador, Yukon, went to the vet to cross the rainbow bridge today. He was a month shy of 13 years old, and it was definitely his time. He'd been arthritic for a few years now, but he went rapidly downhill over the last week or so, being barely able to move. May he romp around pain-free with Heather, Taffy, Sierra, Sequoia, and Bootsie now.
Yukon was the lunkhead of the house, as well as the only male dog we ever had. Headstrong and smart as a brick, he was ruled by his stomach and got into anything and everything that he suspected was food. Kleenex were a favorite snack of his, especially used ones he pulled out of all the garbage cans he would knock over on a regular basis. Training him required lots of patience and lots of treats. But he was absolutely the most sweet-natured dog ever, loved everyone instantly and would lick you half to death given the chance. He was a good companion and was lucky to have such a good, long run.
( Yukon: May 27, 1997 - April 11, 2010 )