We adopted Harvey when he was just under a year old. He had been shot, and hit by a car, then taken to a local refuge, owned by friends for veterinary care and recovery. I was looking for a larger dog, and was told by one of the refuge owners that this black dog would be one of the most wonderful dogs we ever had. He wasn't wrong. We brought him home when he had gained back his strength.

After that initial series of injuries, it took time for him to recover, and his jaw had been broken. The attending vet didn't notice, and it meant that Harvey's jaw fused, and could only open about an inch. We took him to Tamworth, and after cutting some ligaments on his left side, he was able to regain full use of his mouth, albeit somewhat less strong on the left.

Kind to a fault, sweet natured, sensitive, and never a dog to put his paw up to do more than was strictly necessary, Harvey was a gem. He was a loveable, old soul, mostly black lab, and in his younger days, as goofy as they come. He loved everybody, and at times, accompanied me to the art studio where I support people with disability, where he toured the service, and was a favorite with everyone.

Harvey cheated death at the start, but then went on to survive an impacted rectum because he could pulverize butcher bones and they all jammed up in his backside (no more bones after that) and incredibly, survived two different snake bites from blue bellied-black snakes. Never one to volunteer to chase anything, we know it happened because Harvey blundered up when our quicker, smaller dog, Spud was killing the snakes, and Harvey stuck his nose into the action. Typical Harvey.

We think his final battle with liver failure was because of the double dose of venom he was delivered - even though it was a few years back, it may have played a part in his end.

We miss him every day. It seems impossible such a gentle, sweet dog who loved nothing more than fronting up to my husband's foot for a scratch, or a cuddle, is gone.

We love you Harvey.