Everybody Loves an Old Lab Named Peter.

He came to us five summers ago with the name  of Peter, a term of endearment going back two thousand years.  He lived up to his name as his life was endearing to us as well.  Pete was a black lab, the kind of old dog that everyone loves, but few are willing to adopt in their middle ages.  Pete was always extremely anxious, most likely a permanent scar which caused him to leave his home and run away.

Woody, a much smaller Chihuahua mix, came along for the ride out of the animal shelter as Pete’s personal psychiatrist to comfort his much bigger brother. Through trips away, long nights, and thunderstorms Woody was there for Pete - an inseparable Mutt and Jeff tandem.

Then we came along and the love, comfort, and tasty, frequent snacks relieved Woody of his appointed duties. We instantly fell in love in Peter as well as his black lab predecessor “Old Man Mr. Earl.”  He became our best buddy out of a dozen more rescue dogs. 

Peter and Mr. Earl

Peter loved his hand fed snacks, but never bit your hand.  He gently took them with this teeth, not squeezing his treat until your hand was removed.

The days came and the nights went, all so quickly.

Old people and old dogs tend to slow down.  He even didn't mind his new buddy, our blind Boston Terrier Dewey, who could not see Peter was already there trying to sleep.

He loved swimming in our pond even though it was arduous task to extricate him up the banks of the refreshing pond water.  At the top of his summer daily itinerary was a long bath in hot summer day in the kiddie pool.

First his back legs started to wither. Then a week ago, his front legs gave way.

He knew and we knew it was time - time to say goodbye until we meet again. He was out of wags.

Peter and little brother Dewey

Pete swam across the pond and rested in the shade of the trees just in time for a 4th of July swim with his old black dog brothers, “Old Man Mr. Earl” and Dewey, with Woody there on the banks, just in case he gets scared.

Woody 

We loved Peter.  We always will.  

ODE TO AN OLD DOG
by: Scott B. Thompson, Sr.
Inspired by Jimmy Stewart

There once was a dog named Earl.
We called him Mister Earl.
He was a lab, old  and black,
And no one, but my wife, who would take him back.

Earl came to us with a badly broken leg,
“There’s no choice,” she was told.
They said it was some kind of car,
which knocked him down on the side of the road.







“This broken leg had to come off,”.
they told me wife.
“No, no, no, not right now, she said,
“We must save his life!”



The splint she wrapped over and over,
time after time, three to four times a day.
Earl was going to walk, perhaps run  again,
if she had her way.

Earl couldn’t walk so well,
and Earl was much too fat.
Though that did not stop him from climbing on the sofa,
sleeping off his Thanksgiving turkey, that’s where he sat.

Then came the worms in his heart,
And the cloudiness in his eyes.
Earl was too old and couldn’t run,
Though his inner puppy still wanted to have fun.

Earl loved to take a hotdog with a pill.
That was his twice daily thrill.
He gobbled and gobbled all the food he could,
and when his dark eyes smiled, you knew it was good.

Earl was a odd old dog, one which never barked,
though he would snap at the mischievous and curious pups,
Putting them in their place
when they tried to lick the crumbs from his gray-bearded face.

There were those bad nights, when his breathing was hard.
and Kathy laid by his side in the middle of the night.
She lovingly stroked and stroked his all black hair,
and when the morning slowly came, he was still there.

Earl has gone out running now,
Bolting his days in the golden  meadows of heaven
and sleeping his nights on a pillows of soft, soft, foam.
Dashing and darting where all the old dogs forever roam.

There will always be those nights when creeping through the kitchen dark,
when we still look down for that blur of black
and we wish he would rise his head up and thump his tail.
For there never be a sweeter dog in the whole wide world
than a dog we called Mister Earl.

FERNANDINA ISLAND, FLORIDA - SEPTEMBER 2016

FORT CLINCH

FORT CLINCH FISHING PIER

MOON AND THE PALMS 

HIGHWAY A1A and SADLER ROAD

BOSQUE BELLO CEMETERY

SAINT PETER'S EPISCOPAL

CEMETERY