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I sat down today at a coffee shoppe with a magazine and as so often happens when I do this I really started thinking. The thoughts that run through my mind are always a little scattered, but I kept coming back to something I've said for sometime now; that Lucy, my fawn colored long legged dachshund, was the best thing that ever happened to me. It's true and let me tell you why.

My original purpose for finding Lucy was to give my terrier a little more mellow companion to help calm him down. Little did I know then that his companion would rescue me. Lucy only weighs 18lbs so I'm not saying she physically saved me from death or anything. She did all her work by just being her.

Lucy came into my life in May of 2006. It was a rainy day and she was only 8 months old, I had to drive 2 hours to pick her up, but I knew it was worth it, having talked to her current owner. Lucy's personality met all the things I had determined were what I wanted for our second dog. I just knew she would be what my terrier needed and that she would be a dog I could enjoy having as well.

On our drive back I could sense Lucy's angst, I could sense her confusion about what had just happened. I started to talk to her and in my human way try to explain what she meant to me. Right away I could see how intuitive she was she responded to my voice. As I talked to her she let me know which of the names I had picked out she wanted to have. She tilted her head and looked directly in my eyes when I said the last name I had chosen. So, with that settled I put on my favorite CD and she relaxed and went to sleep in the seat next to me. Immediately, I knew this was my girl.

When she got home she fit in right away, the amount of adjustment for her was truly just a few hours. I was happy to see how well things were going. I finally had what I wanted in a dog. And she started in her new role without ant hesitation.

In July the worst news of my life came. My brother had killed himself. I had little knowledge of his state of mind. I did not know of his bi-polar diagnosis, nor had I known of his prior attempts. I was devastated. I had no ability inside me to believe it was true. And the reality of it truly took me out of my mind. The devastation of it was unbearable. As I worked my way through the first few weeks of learning how to live life after the death of a sibling the only thing that got me out of bed most days was the fact that Lucy needed me. She was too young to be asked to go hours and hours without

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