I guess she was a mutt. She looked a little like a lab, but not really. She was...unique. My friend found her in the vacant house behind mine. She was very skinny, like she hadn't eaten very well and she seemed timid and scared, like she had been abused. My friend had found her and he was going to keep her after he was settled in his new house. He never came to get her.

She had a rabies tag on and we called to see if we could track her owners down. All the vet would tell us is that she had heartworms. He would give us no other information. We gave him our number, but a call never came.

We named her Lady as she looked elegant and walked with a grace and style that seemed, well, above other dogs. She played with my other dog, Tifa and they seemed to have a great time together.

After her initial shyness, Lady became my little shadow. She would not let me out of her sight. She always had to be in the same room as me. Not that I minded, of course, as she was as sweet as could be.

Tifa, Lady, and then Tifa's two puppies followed me from school in Atlanta, to my job in Gainesville, Florida and then here to Houston, when I got married.

While the other dogs became preoccupied with the new people in our lives, LadyBug stuck to me like glue. Always excited to see me and happy to just be in the same area. She seemed content, which to me, is the greatest gift you can give to an animal. She was right where she wanted to be.

With her heartworms, I dreaded everyday that when I came home she would be gone. Oddly enough, they never affected her. Her heart was just too strong.

Yesterday afternoon, I noticed she seemed a little fatigued and it got worse through the night. By this afternoon I could see that look.

They say when your dog is ready to go, it gets that look in its eyes. I scoffed at that until I had to deal with it with Tifa last January. She had the look that said, "Thank you for everything, but my time here is done. I will see you at the Rainbow Bridge."

Lady gave me that look this morning as she struggled to get up and collapsed on our dining room floor.

We went to the vet to get a diagnosis, but we both knew. I held her head in my hands and told her how much I loved her as she slipped away. The last thing I said to her was thank you.

She lived a long, wonderful life. Much longer and much better than if we hadn't rescued her that October day in 1992. I can tell you without a doubt that she made my life much better and much more full than I did hers.

I will miss her and think of her every day, like I do with Tifa. They were with me during the most difficult days of my life and then the happiest days of my life. They greeted me with a smile and a kiss every day, regardless.

Goodbye LadyBug...thank you. .