It sounds like a bad country song... My dog died. And I never knew that it could hurt this bad. Or I could cry so many tears about an animal. But it does (hurt) and I did (cry). On Saturday morning, my dog died in an accident on the mountaintop.

Meet Cooper. He was about 5 years old in people years. :) A beautiful black lab/golden retriever mix. A true mountain dog.

One of my roommates made the sweetest little note for me about "Remember the Good Times." So that's what I'm gonna do.

Remember how Cooper would go crazy at every picnic & gathering, and then finally crash on the ground to pant and breath heavily for 30 minutes.. and soon enough, he'd be off!

Remember how everybody loved him! Called him names like, "Super-dooper-Cooper"... or my personal favorite, "Goofer."

Remember how he would do anything for food... even dance!

Remember how he was best buds.. with every other dog!

Remember how the best thing to do was use him as a pillow, or just stare into those brown eyes...

Remember how he loved his people, especially his boy, Zeph!

Remember how Dad would give him milk every morning "to make his coat shiny."
Remember how he would jump into the neighbor's pond to cool off on those hot summer days.
Remember how he was always ready and enthusiastic to go for a little hike.
Remembew hoe he would lay super-close to the woodstove, with the thick fur coat, and he seemed to like it.
Remember how his eyes would coerce us into giving him table scraps.
Remember how he would go visit the neighbors and we would find him sprawled out on their deck, just chillin'.
Remember how he would relive his adventures in his dreams, and we could watch his paws twitch and hear the faint barking as he slept.
Remember how he kept me warm on the cold winter nights.
Remember how all the little kids would play with him, lead him around like a pony, and even climb on his back.. and he didn't mind.