It was a year ago today that I had to put Louie down.  He was 15 and a half years old.  He was a delightful little dog who marched to the beat of his own drummer.  Like most French Brittanys, he was both a couch potato par excellence, and an absolutely relentless hunter.  The photo of him with the pheasant was taken two days before he died.  We should all be so lucky.