I'm sorry to hear about that. That's the trouble with those furry guys. They'll be the best friend you ever have, but your time with them is far, far too short.

My father's lab had to be put down in October after a short battle with cancer. Max got to go pheasant hunting opening weekend and for about a day it was like he was never sick. He even flushed my first rooster of 2002. The following Thursday, my dad put him to sleep.

Strangest thing happened, though, that Friday night. I went hunting with my two favorite hunting buddies as I've done for years. We retold stories of Max's life, laughing about the first time they met Max- which involved him lifting his leg on EVERY corner in their motel room and then walking out! We had a toast to him and as if on cue... My dog Cooper walked in, peed on three corners.... and walked out.

Those two must have had a talk because the young dog took over Max's from that point on. Even in the field, he is the leader, just like Max was. No dog will ever be in my memory like the first, but Cooper earned a special place in my heart that day for his bizzare act of disobedience!