Oliver

He bit. He bit me once (I'm the only one in the family who didn't have blood drawn). He loved attention and smiled when his chest was rubbed. Even in old age, he'd play "goalie" in his own form of soccer, blocking a big ball with his nose or paws and holding a smaller ball in his mouth. All the food in the world belonged to him -- or so he continually tried to convince us. He could be sweet beyond belief. He loved water and would join you in the shower if you left the bathroom door open (I nearly jumped my full height when I felt a nose on my leg when I thought I was alone.). He was a big Westie who loved and protected us. (True fact, he alerted us to genuine burglary attempts twice and at least one earthquake.) He loved me and sought me out whenever I visited.

Last night, suffering from pneumonia and other major problems, Oliver quietly went to sleep permanently. Sis, held the phone to his ear so I could say goodbye and said he recognized my voice. I miss him.