Eight years ago, when Bobsie was nine and I was about to turn eighteen, I met her. I knew instantly that she was meant for me, I knew she had to come home with me. She'd been dumped by a family who didn't want her after her first owner had passed away. Doom was just a puppy at the time, rambunctious and all over the place, and Bobsie, with her quiet dignity corrected softly and trained him to be the dog he is today. She always knew when I needed her, and would cuddle for hours without so much as a wiggle. She loved to be held like a newborn and have her tummy rubbed. Peanut butter was her favorite thing ever. Three weeks ago, she was diagnosed with bladder cancer. I kept quiet, hoping it would just go away and leave us alone, but she quickly deteriorated, starting to lose control of her bladder, and waking up crying in the middle of the night after wetting herself. Last week, I knew it was time. We'd been trying to put weight on her, but nothing was working, and then I saw it in her eyes, the look that says simply "let me go". And so this morning, at 9:30, we did exactly that. Bobsie went over the bridge with as much of that famous dignity still in her soul as I could leave her with, and I am a heart broken, tear soaked mess. This is my favorite picture of Bobsie ever... when we get a printer I will print it and frame it. I will never forget her, the patient, beautiful little lady with the chocolate colored eyes as big as saucers, who never forgot me, even when I was in basic training forever without her. Zoom took that picture, and I can never thank her enough. I love you, Bobsie, and I always will. Doom and I miss you already. If anyone has pictures of Bobsie and is up to sharing, I would love to see them.