I’m going to plagiarize myself for this week’s column. A majority of this has been taken from a social media post on my personal page.

Forgive me for that, but my heart is in one place right now and I’m lost when searching for other words. You see, last week my heart broke. Last week my best friend and sidekick left. Last week, the greatest dog who ever lived, died.

I don’t know if there is enough wordsmithing possible to adequately pay tribute to what our dog, Drake, meant to our family. He was loved beyond measure and he loved each one of us back just as fiercely. There will never be another Drake. He was the best dog ever.

We adopted Drake in 2012. He was found as a puppy surviving by eating from dumpsters and was taken in by a foster. Our boys had been begging for a dog and here was a puppy who needed some kids. My hubby went to see if that puppy might be a fit for our family and came home with Drake in the truck. It was love at first sight for everyone.

Drake was a typical lab and tried to chew my entire house in his first six months with us. One night he chewed pretty much every Christmas decoration I had. My husband discovered the annihilated decor, all heaped by the back door like some prized display of contemporary artwork, and he later told me, “At that moment I was pretty sure the kids weren’t going to have a dog anymore because I was sure that you were going to kill him.”

When we arrived in Texas and my hubs was traveling constantly for work, Drake was my only friend. He rode along on my school drop-offs. With the boys at school and the girls strapped in their car seats, we would randomly drive the roads around the county, slowly learning the lay of the land, before turning on the GPS to get us back home. We racked up a lot of miles those first months.

Drake loved me, but he lived for our kids. He was his happiest playing in the yard with the kids. I guess he got lucky that we have so dang many of them.

The boys would throw the ball for hours and Drake would eagerly fetch it as many times as they were willing to throw it. It was a contest to see who would run out of energy first, the wild little boys or the dog with a heart as big as Texas. Knowing my kids, Drake probably tired out first, but there was no way that he was letting one of his kids down so he found the spirit to chase after the ball long after he was ready to lay on the porch. Or maybe he knew that little boys don’t stay little for long and that he needed to soak up all of the time in the backyard he could with them.

When it came to the girls, Drake was their protector. He followed the girls anywhere they went on our property. Even later in life when arthritis in his hips and legs made getting up and down a little bit uncomfortable, he was never more than 10 feet from whatever those girls were doing. They would jump on the trampoline, run to the swing set, run back to the trampoline, and then dash over to the sidewalk to make chalk creations; all in a matter of 15 minutes. That didn’t matter to Drake. If the girls moved, so did he.

Last year early April, Drake was diagnosed with cancer in his leg, some of the tumors inoperable because they were in the muscles. He was approaching 10 years old, overweight, with arthritis in his hips and elbows and that did not make him a strong candidate for an amputation that might prevent the spread of the cancer. The option of chemotherapy and radiation were going to be hard on him as well. We did remove one large tumor that was accessible and likely going to overtake his leg fairly quickly, but otherwise, we just committed to loving him that much harder for the days he had left.

I already took him almost everywhere with me, but after his diagnosis, he never left my side. He started going to work with me every day. The customers, delivery drivers, and especially my coworkers all loved on him and spoiled him daily.

Finally, the signs we knew were inevitable started to show themselves. The cancer was spreading and it reached a point where it seemed to become more aggressive and determined. Within a week, Drake had no appetite, struggled to get up, and had labored breathing.

We weren’t ready and we wanted to hold on to Drake as long as we could. We couldn’t imagine saying goodbye to him. We wanted Drake to give us a sign that it was truly time. We wanted the peace of mind of knowing that all of his life had been lived. He still wagged his tail when we walked in the room. Maybe we were rushing it?

Then we realized that we were being selfish. Drake giving us a clearer sign basically would require him to deteriorate further than he deserved to. The best dog ever did not deserve to go down like that. We needed to say goodbye while the good days still outnumbered the bad. We owed it to our guy to let him rest.

I scheduled the appointment all the while telling myself I could always reschedule. However, as the day approached, I slowly grew more at peace.

I talked to Drake about it. I told him not to be afraid or sad. That I would be there when he fell asleep and when he woke up his body would be pain-free. No cancer, no arthritis. I told him he would be running with his best pals who had gone before him and my grumpy old black cat would be keeping them all in line. I told him I would take good care of his kids and that I would see him again one day. I told him thank you for loving us and we will remember him always.

Then knowing that his heart was still there, but his body was tired, we took one final trip to the vet. That drive was by far the hardest thing I have ever done in my life. Five natural childbirths were a cakewalk compared to finding the courage to call Drake out of the truck at the vet’s office. We held our brave, strong boy and watched him fall asleep. He was gone.

Our lives will never be the same again. We are better for having had you to love, Drake. Our lives are better for having you love us. You really were the best dog ever. There will ever be another you.

“Drake loved me, but he lived for our kids. He was his happiest playing in the yard with the kids. I guess he got lucky that we have so dang many of them. The boys would throw the ball for hours and Drake would eagerly fetch it as many times as they were willing to throw it.”