It's hard to imagine you can miss a dog so much. Putting him to sleep yesterday was one of the hardest things I've ever had to do. For those of you who say "it's just a dog", you've never had a dog to love you, to look to you every day for basic needs of shelter, food, water and companionship. I had Dred for 11 years, he was a sweet dog, spoiled and whiney, but sweet. He saw many changes in his life, we moved once in California, several times here in Kentucky, and finally spent his last 3 years "down on the farm" with acres and acres to roam, but stayed right here with the fam, close to home, close to food, close to his bed. He lost friends along the way, the greatest of them Paige, his first dog companion, and Cory, Dred's "mini me", his little shadow. Dred nearly grieved himself to death when I put Paige down from cancer. He missed her immensely. He loved to run, play and chase and be chased. His greatest passion beyond running full speed around the yard like a Nascar racer, was typical Ridgeback mentality: food. He was a trash tramp, a counter cruiser and general scavenger. We lost many a loaves of bread, sandwiches left on the counter while we made drinks or left overs on the stove to him and his insatiable appetite. He was a dog that was to be shown, but during his first show when he was 6 months old, his breeders noticed something wrong with his top line and his gait. A trip to the specialist showed he had a narrowing of the spine and bone spurs growing into his spinal cord. He would never show again. He was neutered when he was 10 months old and thus began his life as a couch monger. He travelled cross country from California back to the mountains of my home state of Kentucky. He was diagnosed with cancer in 2005, but several other doctors disagreed. He grew lumps that had lumps, but our vet said if the tumors weren't cancerous and weren't bothering him, to leave them alone due to his age. The last large tumor was inoperable. He suffered from ear infections on a regular basis to the point our vet didn't even make me bring him in anymore. He was a beloved pest that will be greatly missed, but will still be part of the family in his new spot under the tree near our patio and the children's swing set. We love you Big Un and miss you. We'll see you when we get there...