Duke

Duke is not the beans dog but he is my dog.

He is a beautiful 65 pound Golden retriever that is a gentle spirit and a big fraidy cat. He is not the Alpha male - my Cavalier that is about 30 pounds and a year younger dominates the Golden. Duke has always needed hugs, pats and loads of love and eventually attached himself to my youngest son.

The two would wrestle(yes, I did say wrestle) and play and sleep together.

I am not sure who the bigger beneficiary of that arrangement was!

During my period of treatment, after the daunting trips to Pittsburgh and back, I would find myself heading to bed more from the car sickness and exhaustion than anything.

Duke was always by my side.

He would steady himself as he would slowly ascend the bed. He would carefully and strategically move until he was on my unaffected side and snuggle in and place his head on my thigh.

This dog would not move even a muscle until and when I would move.

If I left the bed, he would follow and then stealthily return to his position of observance and comfort.

Now who would ever think that a 65 pound dog could do that for you, but he did.

He stayed for hours by my side and always knew the days I needed more attention.

When the household was busy and everyone leaving for their different jobs and activities, Duke stayed.

When the flurry of activity came into the bedroom, he stayed ever vigilant. This dog was my keeper.