Sixteen years ago I brought home a fluffy white Poodle/Bichon Frise mix puppy. I named her Barbet for the island that reportedly Bichon Frise dogs originated. She wanted to be with me all the time. That meant she was with me whenever I was typing or doing other computer work – like on the websites that I worked on at the time. She would jump up on the spare bed in my computer room and would either sleep or watch me. Later, when I started writing short stories and tried my hand at novels, she was there. I often read out loud the things I had written, especially if I wasn’t sure it sounded right. Barbet would lift her head and gaze at me with a placid look. If the cadence sounded right, she would put down her head, but if something sounded off, she would keep staring at me. Critics are tough.
Last weekend she died of kidney problems. She died at home with her sister dog and me by her side. It was tough. I miss her. I will very much miss her doggie criticism. However, I believe she is probably in doggie heaven romping with the other animals I have owned. Rest in Peace my sweet writing companion. I will miss you.