I came home from a visit to Japan the other day to the terrible news that my eldest dog, Carson, died of a heart attack. I guess he just sort of walked to one corner of the yard one day, layed down, and never woke up. According to my mom, the vet said that it was a very painless death. He was 11 years old when he died, and a mixture of a German Shepard and Malamute. He was a very good dog; very pretty and friendly. He always loved to play with the other dogs (two schnauzers and a yorkie/shihtzu mix). I remember his big pointy ears and goofy grin, hehe. I unfortunately don't have any uploaded picture of him, but picture a german shepard that is gray, white and black instead of brown and black. When we rescued him, he was thirty pounds underweight. Apparently his previous owner abused him real bad; starved and beat him quite a bit. It took four years or so for him to no longer fear picked up newspapers or towels (simply picking them up startled him). I'll miss him. I remember having a dream where he walked away from me into white light, and I just waved goodbye, and told him I will miss him. After that, I cried one last time, and moved on.