His name was Duke. He was a mixed breed, probably golden retriever and something else, perhaps labrador retriever. He was very, very fluffy. I spent about a year walking Duke and his sister Daisy and other doggie buddies daily through my woods when they were staying next door at my neighbor's house. Duke's family (my neighbor's daughter) was in the process of moving here from Washington state.
Duke was a dog who loved to retrieve and he loved attention. He had a habit of taking your hand in his mouth to get that attention. Then he'd want you to throw something for him, usually some sort of mostly destroyed stuffed animal, over and over and over.
My neighbor saw him yesterday and said he seemed fine. But today Duke was quiet and barely moving. Then he just stopped breathing, before they could take him to the vet.
Duke was only 11.5 years old.