Said goodbye to my oldest dog this week. Maggie was nearly 14. Not nearly as old as the oldest dog I've ever had (Sam made it to 19.5), but old for a fairly big girl. She died quietly at the vet on her own, while being housed there while I was out of town so she wouldn't be alone all day.
She was easily the waggiest dog I've ever had. She wagged at everyone. She wagged in her sleep. She wagged even harder when there was food to be had. Three times in her life she wagged her tail bloody (and didn't seem to notice). When she was older, before arthritis slowed her wag down, she wagged her tail permanently bald.
When we first moved to this area, she was about 8 years old, and while she could still run and play, she was a bit past her prime. She and Reid (now about 8) went for a run in the hills. 2 hours later, they hadn't returned, so I went hiking to look for them. Reid came back without her shortly after I left. About 1/2 mile from my house, I was skirting along a ridge above some houses and Maggie came dragging up to me. She was exhausted (but still wagging like a maniac), and when she got to me, she just laid down and asked for a belly rub. After a minute, I stood up and told her we needed to go home. She just looked at me, so I got to carry her 65 lbs. down off of that ridge to the road so my wife could pick us up. Maggie slept for about 6 hours straight after that before she would even eat.
I hope she's enjoying her wanderings wherever it is dogs go...