At one point the vet told me I'd better be prepared to lose this golden doodle pup. Little Macaroni had pneumonia, and was becoming thinner and more lethargic by the day. Antibiotics, subcutaneous fluids, steam baths and courage had no discernible effect. The vet shook his head, sighed, and said, "They have to have the will to live." I remember watching Mac's brother Yankee gently cuddling up with him, and being grateful for that small comfort.
But at long last, he turned the corner. He perked up, and he played. He was going to be okay.
In the meantime, my friend Beth had fallen for him hook, line and sinker, AND had convinced her friend-and-next-door-neighbor to adopt Yankee. That week, the two families put a gate in the fence between their properties. Their life is one long playdate with a best friend.
It's just as heavenly as it sounds.
