I had stopped working with wolves and wolf dogs several years before you were born. They said you needed us Sweet Boy, but the truth is we needed you more. Dad and I had been missing our human offspring terribly and longed to be a bigger family again. So when Aunt Sue picked you up and brought you to our house, you took over our lives from that moment on. At first, Dad tried to be sensible and dissuade me from keeping you, but we both knew the moment we held you in our arms you were God sent. Even Lucy the wonder cat was pleased with the strange little barking cat she actually dwarfed at first.

You loved bee-bees; the stuffed toys we gave you to help you feel less lonely those first couple of nights. I left your first one with you at Dr. Smith's. You grew so fast and were so beautiful we constantly struggled to catch our breath while keeping up with you.

You had so much energy and life we adopted little Hopi to run with you when you were nine months old. You loved her instantly too. You became my hero the way you let that pup chew on you mercilessly and protected her as though you birthed her yourself. No one told you wolf males are as involved in raising the pups as the females, you just knew. You knew exactly when to be tough with her just that one time, yet she never feared you - only the selfish and disconnected feared you.

You loved the whole family, but especially kids - all kids; the broken ones and the peaceful ones. And wherever we went, the kids loved you too. You always knew which ones had gone bad though and did your best to cut them from the pack. You told me Thomas would eventually be okay and that Lare was still terribly wounded.

Once you understood that digging was not good on lawns, you enjoyed gardening (which was what we called digging where I told you to do it). Running a ball or a bone (no matter how small the pieces became) around the yards with Hopi was your favorite way to pass a day. Although you didn't leave Hopi behind very often, now and then you showed us a glimpse of how fast you could run. I was sure you were laughin when your hind feet nearly touched your chin as you recoiled and sprang forward in marvelous parallel leaps along the ground, rocketing along in gigantic loops until you'd had enough.

You loved presents wrapped in tissue paper with ribbons on your birthdays and at Christmastime. You and Hopi had great fun carrying your packages, trotting all over the house with them until you really needed to smell the contents directly and taste them. And no matter how many bones or bee-bees we gave you and Hopi, you would both tease each other and play with the same one until you either ate it or destroyed it completely. You never took a bone or a toy from Hopi, but you didn't mind waking us up in the night to tell us she had the one you wanted.

You relished getting the newspaper, keeping it as high and away from Hopi as you could, taking it to Dad so you could all enjoy your treats, and then settle down to read. Sometimes you just had to wrestle Dad for his slippers when he wanted to put his feet up, but it made you so happy no one really minded the ruckus much.

We weren't always sure what was best for you, but you showed us we are a family no matter what. Since I worked mostly at home You and I were closest to one another. While we moved from one place to another pulling our family back together, you patiently waited for me to find time for you. You never let me neglect you - you knew that would hurt me more than it could hurt you. You were my constant companion and you often knew what I needed better than I knew myself.

You told me when anything happened around our home or on the road and you were very careful about anyone outside the pack coming to the door or the gate. Most humans were reluctant to deal with your ninety pound frame, even after looking into your gentle eyes. Although I spent more time fussing over you than I actually did writing about you, I became a better writer, and a better person because of you.

You made your mom-cat Lucy proud too, even though you never learned how to play her games quite right. She loved you so much she risked her life just to be in Bear's yard with you when you stayed with Aunt Sue that one year.

You enjoyed short rides in the truck around the neighborhood, and you were very patient each time we moved your territory. You never minded the new houses and the constant changes even though that was against your nature. You loved us that much.

You didn't especially like the back of our home in Finley. We enjoyed our walks on the road and short trips to the Three Rivers Park where you, Hopi and I ran the peninsula until she and I were tired. Even when dad brought home the bass and the brown trout from the river and put them in your pool, our home had its problems, but we made the best of it. At least I thought we did until I found the lump in your neck. In all my experience, even though I knew the potential hazards from fox tails, I didn't know goat head thorns could harm you. That was a hard lesson for us all and I still wonder if I'll ever get over it.

After we moved to Hot Springs, you even taught Momma what people could not teach her. When she died a few weeks later she was no longer afraid of big dogs. Even when you were terribly sick yourself, you pushed your way into her heart too and comforted her during her last days.

The love of God always shone in your eyes, even when the pain was horrible. I am thankful our last day together was so good. We walked the park until you were tired, you ate well with very little help, and the pills helped you feel a little better so moving wasn't so hard. I even fooled myself into thinking you felt better for a few minutes that next morning. But then I saw you fretting over the sore that appeared the day before - it ruptured. It was the more painful of the side effects of the blood infection. Hours later you were more concerned about comforting the frightened Jack Russell pup in the waiting room than you were about your own agony. There has never been a nobler beast and I doubt there ever will be.

Sweet Boy, I know our friend Solo will find you and you two will keep one another company until Hopi, Lucy, Dad and I come home to you again. Until then, the memories we made together will keep us well enough. You be happy, my Sweet Boy, and we will try our best to do the same, knowing our love will go on forever and ever thanks to Jesus.

""Of course, Daughter of Eve," said the Faun. "The further up and the further in you go, the bigger everything gets. The inside is larger than the outside." ... But for them it was only the beginning of the real story. All their life in this world and all their adventures in Narnia had only been the cover and the title page: now at last they were beginning Chapter One of the Great Story, which no one on earth has read: which goes on for ever: in which every chapter is better than the one before."