On Friday, June 2nd, I lost the best dog there ever was, my guardian angel Hobbes. I adoped Hobbes when he was eight weeks old from the Humane Society. I wanted a puppy so badly, and when I walked through the pound--there he sat, a small black and white lab mix with long floppy ears, sitting inside of his empty food dish wagging his tail at me. I took him home, sitting on my chest, and that is when the bond was created. Hobbes was only nine years old when I lost him to cancer--hemangiosarcoma. Hobbes had the strongest most wonderful spirit, and not even major surgery and illness seemed to effect his obvious happiness and content with life. He was a big-time snuggling dog, and never left my side. Whether I was on the couch, on the computer, in the yard, or in bed, Hobbes would always be right there with me as close as he could get. Hobbes was that one dog to methe dog you may be lucky enough to find once in a lifetime. I was devastated when I found out about his hemangiosarcoma and I looked it up on the internet to find the prognosis so negative. I feel confident that we pursued every possible course in at attempt to prolong and possibly save his life, even though ultimately it was too late--the cancer spread too quickly and he began to bleed internally on Thursday. I arrived home from a trip out-of-town Friday night to find Hobbes on the couch, panting weakly. He could not lift his head or wag his tail at me. This was the sign to me how badly he was really feeling, and I knew that no matter how badly I wanted to have Hobbes in my life even for one more day, it was time to end his suffering. Before leaving for the vet office, I fed Hobbes two of his favorive dog ice creams, which seemed to make him feel a little better. I held him in my lap on the trip to the office. As we drove there with the window down so he could smell the summer air, he rolled his beautiful eyes at me, tucked his nose under my chin, and sighed contently several times. I promised him that I would make it all better, and he seemed to believe me. As the vet administered the injection, he seemed to take one last satisfied dog sigh and was gone. There is a huge hole in my heart, and I don't know how I will live without him. I still cannot believe he is gone and I hope his spirit lives and I can join him again some day. I have put a garden in my yard for Hobbes with a bench near where I buried him. I am hoping this is a place where somehow Hobbes and I will still be able to commune, in spirit. Thanks for letting me share my story and begin the healing. Bless all of you who have lost your special loved ones--there is something so special and unique about the constant, gentle, unconditional love and acceptance of a pet that nothing else compares to. They are our angels. -Lorri Ely Berend