Sunday night, my best pal left. Porter and I started living together when he was just under 2. He was a Lab/Golden mix (jet black of the lab, long hair of the golden) who had been abandoned when his "owners" divorced. I thought his name was a bit pretentious, but found out he was born in Bend, OR, and his full name was Black Butte Porter. Now, there is a bloodline. Porter was one of a kind. I have had lots of really great dogs, mostly purebred labs and dobermans, but Porter was the best. He was always a perfect gentleman (well, when he would meet someone, he would nudge in close for petting which put his nose in their crotch) and loved everybody and everything. When we would be out, he would never be more than 3-5 feet from me and had not seen a leash in many years. Indoors, his desire to be close often resulted in "Porter, get your butt out of the way". Porter loved to go fishing with me. He would lie nearby peacefully watching and I never had to worry about where he was or what he was into. His whole life seemed to revolve around being near me. Sunday night, when I got home from work, Porter was lying very listlessly. He wasn't in pain but had no energy. I took him in to a 24 hour emergency vet hospital in Tacoma, but he passed about 2-3 minutes after we got there. It looks like that great big heart just wore out, probably from all the love it gave out. I'll miss him dearly.