He looked very small, lying on the Vet's table yesterday, as he took his last breath and left me to cross that bridge. Small, and not signifigant in the larger scheme of life. But he was mighty, fearless really; tough. loving and proud. He made a place for himself wherever he went and an impression on whomever he met. He held his own wiht labs, mastiffs and boxers, and was always the first one to welcome the foster puppies. "Terry, the Enforcer" they called him in my puppy classes, because he would break up any major tussles that developed, and have them all under control shortly. He was a big dog, in a small package, with a great appetite for life and love. Everyone who knows me, knows I love dogs. I'm a dog person, but I was not a "terrier person" or a "small dog person" until he came into my life a little over 14 years ago. Rehomed 3 times by the age of 11 months, he had had a rough start. The night he came to me, from Heartland Westie Rescue, he needed a safe place to be. My lab Henry (in the first picture, then 7) did not take too well to this new, young interloper. I sat down on the couch and Henry jumped up and sprawled himself across the space and both my legs, leaving only about 7 inches betweeen my right leg and the arm of the couch. Terry quickly assessed the situation, jumped up, turned around, and then squeezed himself into that 7 inch space and put his head on my knee. He made a space for himself, and we never looked back. He raised two more labs since then; his last puppy (on the right) my big Blondie was his real love. He was small, but he's left a large space to fill. Rest in peace my little love, you'll remain a giant in my heart.