A.K.A. Stinkly Beasterton, Goof Machine, Snarling Weasel and Sunshine of My Life. My vacuum cleaner, burglar alarm, and best friend, we were inseparable from the day you popped out of that box at the breeder's house and wouldn't let me go. Too smart for your own good, using your teeth to help all three pounds of you climb over the four foot fencing to get to me when you were a puppy. Licking the glass door (and later window) like a crazed demon, just hoping to get outside with us. Playing your "only child" games, like "use blue boy to launch the squirrel". Thinking horses are your best friends. Running around the side of the couch (your natural habitat) and attacking unseen scratching creatures under the pillows. Giving me a dirty look if I was still awake when you were ready to go to bed. Sleeping in my armpit or stretched out along my back. I am so grateful for every minute of the all-too-brief time you were on this earth that I could hug you, and squeeze you, and call you George.