Bob

I was in college when I met Bob. She was a little black fluff ball with a nose poking out. On our way home together for the first time, she threw up on me, and then she shivered in my lap and fell asleep. She was the SWEETEST puppy. I didn't have to potty train her! No joke. She literally never used the bathroom in my apartment, but she sometimes did in other people's. She and I went everywhere together. Since I got her the year I pretty much dropped out of college (don't worry, I eventually went back), she became my center, in a way, something to take care of when everything else was falling away.

Bob has an independent and free spirit. When we lived at the beach, she would bust out of my bedroom window and spend the whole day at the beach while I was working. I would find her on the front steps later, soaking wet, filthy, and satisfied. I used to take her for endless morning walks along the beach, and we were often all alone there. She would run through the water for MILES; she loved it.

She is a digger, big time, too.

My little sister, with a bag full of Cheetos, taught her how to roll over, and that has been Bobby's claim to fame ever since. Bob shows affection all of the time, but she never begs for it. She used to sit on my lap while I was driving when we went on road trips together. When she was a little younger, she would dance with me, two legs on the floor and holding my hands. She has lived with me in at least nine different apartments/houses. She has lived with the following pets, all of whom are gone now: Romeo, Twinkie, and Salvador. She loved them.

Bob is extremely gentle. She is expressive with her ears and eyes. I used to dream that she was talking to me. Her lips would move in my dream, but her voice was always my own.

Tonight is the third night in a row that I have been up with Bob, who is panting incessantly. She never stops. She can't sleep. Tonight, though, I can tell she is in pain. She is wheezing a little, and when I lie down and put my arms around her, she twitches. She had a "brain virus" or a stroke last September according to our vet, and we thought she might be failing in health, but she made a full recovery. Now, though, she really seems sick. Bob has been with me for 15 years. I have a feeling that when I take her to the vet they are going to tell me something terrible, but I don't want her to be in pain. How do you know when?