Otis came into my life (well our lives) in August 2001. He was about 10 weeks old. He was a friend for our then, 5 year old Daisy, another English bulldog. Her memorial is within these pages. Otis was my dog, without a doubt. He followed me everywhere around the house. He at times, wouldn't allow my husband to get between me and him. Whenever we left the house, Otis would sit by the front window waiting. As soon as we arrived home, he would run around the car looking for me, and his treat. In later years his waiting would end up fast asleep on his pillow. During the time I was going through treatments for cancer, I became very ill, and spent most of my day in bed. Otis was always beside me, so that I could reach out and touch him, and pet him. I knew that I had to get up so that Otis would get up too, and eat and go outside to potty. Sometimes he would sit on the front lawn and just observe the street. Then he would get up and walk back inside. As time progressed, we could bask in the sun a bit each day. His final months, he began to falter in walking. Then one day he could get up, and he wet right where he laid. I knew it was time to give him a pain-free restful sleep. I miss him every day, and still reach out to pet him, beside me in bed. He was MY 'Little Man".