Even though I haven't mentioned her yet, I am crazy about my pooch, Cleo.
I rescued her from the pound in August of 1999. I was told she was just under a year old --- so that makes her about 8 years old now.
It depresses me to think of her being old. My husband reminds me that she is the right size dog to live for another 8 years.
To me, Cleo is the best. Other people wouldn't think so --- she has lots of bad habits, but I choose to ignore them.
She follows me from room to room and lays next to me while I knit --- and although she's doesn't shed a lot, I know there's a little piece of her in each item I make. (don't you just want a hand knit item from me now!)