I held her as she died and whispered "We'll never forget you" in her ear. We have kept that promise for almost 30 years. Daffodils have pushed through the dirt on her grave and will soon bloom. Two animals were playing on her grave while I was looking out the kitchen window. She wouldn't have liked that. She was very strong in her defense of the backyard. If one dared to cross the utility lines that run across the back of the yard, she would tear across the yard. As far back as our son can remember, he wanted a dog. Excuses were always found. We kept saying that someday. Someday. He was 9 years old when he found the puppies down the street. They did not have their eyes open yet. The owners said he could have one. All we could say was yes, because he looked so hopeful. She was picked out by him. Maybe she picked him out. He would run down the street to see her. She waddled after him when he got home. The longest days in his young life were at the end of June. She finally moved in. He named her dad. She won a blue ribbon at the dog show. She was a cross between a dog and a cat. Soon, the house was hers. She would sit in the bay window and watch the yards. We knew if something moved. Five houses down. He was a child who was locked up. His parents were concerned about him. She was there every day, watching in the window for his school bus and wagging her tail when he appeared. When college was still a distant dream, he would talk about the day when they would grow up and move away together. His parents were aware of what the future would hold. Time can move on. Boys turn into men. Dogs get old too fast. He went to college. She had to be helped into her guard post. She would rush to the door when she heard him coming. Time caught up with her just before Thanksgiving in 1993. She began to vomit and was unable to eat. The doctor said that she was in the final stages of failing her kidneys. He said it was only a matter of days. The boy who was now a man came home. It was a different kind of Thanksgiving, sitting next to her, hoping for a miracle. She could not even drink water. It's time to lick it off our fingers. We had to go to the vet on Friday. She made one last trip into the backyard, looked around for the squirrels she used to chase and gave a final bark at a man two houses down. I am not sure which hurt the most. She was feeling her last heartbeat. Or watching the boy dig her grave. Her grave is now covered by a flower bed. Squirrels and baby bunnies are playing. I can almost hear her warning them to leave her yard. Forget her. Never. Klawrence@messenger-inquirer.com is the email address of Keith Lawrence. The golden retriever thanked the firefighters and police officers who worked for more than an hour to save him. Less than a week after a chihuahua was found dumped in a duffel bag, a pit bull is found tied to a tree. Put your ideas into action with the cloud products and services from Microsoft. 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I decided to use 10 different online calculators to track my retirement savings last week. I was told by a calculator that I would end up with a $5 million savings shortfall for retirement. Mortgage rates fell this week due to the U.S. Treasuries being pulled down by the Russia-Ukraine conflict. I was prepared for my trip. My friend told me to put a bread clip in my wallet. The reason is clever. In the bottom of the sixth, FSU scored six runs, four hits and four walks. Over, under, under, under. Weaving is both meditative and creative. People have been making clothing, baskets, and textiles from various flexible materials since the dawn of time. People are drawn to the calming nature of weaving as it is experiencing a revival. The craft yields. The host points out that we forget about the former president.