He sat in an end seat in the waiting room. Thomas lay curled up at his feet. It was reminiscent of a thousand evenings when the black Lab curled up at his feet. No matter where Dan sat, Thomas found his place near him. For fifteen years, Thomas slept soundly knowing his closest friend was near. Only this was not like all the other times; occasionally Thomas jerked and twitched slightly and emitted little whimpers. It was difficult to get old, even for dogs.

         Thomas was a strange name for a dog. Nevertheless, it seemed appropriate. Soon after Dan and Linda acquired Thomas, they were amused at his tendency to snort and sneeze when he got excited. It reminded them of Linda's father who did the very same thing. Linda's dad was gone now-had been for several years before the black Lab became a part of the family. Nevertheless, it was that endearing trait of Linda's father that became the source of the name for the puppy they grew to love over the years.

         A whimper stole Dan's attention from his memory. He looked at the old dog lying there. He reached out and drew his hand down the dog's black coat, which was now peppered with grey and snow-white hairs. When Thomas was younger, his coat was the blackest that he had ever seen. Many dogs were dull shades of black; but Thomas was the deepest shiniest black. The memory of petting that coat coaxed a smile to Dan's lips as he continued to stroke the old dog.

         A commotion at the door interrupted Dan's attention to Thomas. A husband and wife entered the waiting room with a young pup, a German Shepherd.

          "Easy Buck; behave yourself!" The husband admonished and renewed his hold on the leash.

         Buck pulled at the leash as he excitedly surveyed the vet's waiting room. Seeing Thomas lying there at the end seat, he strained at the leash to get to Thomas, who raised his head with little interest in the pup. The Shepherd strained and smelled of Thomas as the young dog's handler tentatively allowed him to say hello.

          "He's friendly," the owner remarked. "He just likes to meet everyone."

         Dan smiled, nodded and responded, "That's OK. Thomas likes to make new friends. But, he's old now; and I doubt if he'll be very sociable."

          "He's a pretty dog," the Shepherd's owner remarked as he manhandled the pup into submission on the other side of the room.

          "Thank you," was all Dan said; but it accompanied a smile and a little nod. He wanted to tell them how pretty Thomas had been when he was younger-how black and shiny his coat had been. However, Dan knew you couldn't tell someone that; a person just had to experience it.

          "In for a check-up?"

          "No, this is Thomas' last visit." Dan could say no more. He was making every effort to hold back the tears. Thomas shifted with a whimper and placed his head across Dan's foot. The gentle pressure just about broke his heart, as he was fully conscious of the old dog's head on his foot.

         He reached down again and as tenderly as he could he ran his hand down Thomas' back, wondering if the dog had any idea of how much he was loved. Thomas shifted his head as if to acknowledge the feelings. Emotions flooded Dan's senses and he fought hard to keep the tears in check. This was by far the most difficult thing he had ever done.

         They say your life flashes before your eyes at life's final moment; as far as Dan could tell, Thomas was just sleeping. He was content to be in Dan's presence; and he was comfortable in the relationship of trust and love that had nurtured him for fifteen years. However, the memories flooded over Dan, in unassociated sequences-just snippets of the life the two had shared.

         Dan remembered the first day Thomas came into his life. He and Linda lived in the country at that time and it was a very cold day in October. He was late getting home and it was already dark. Nevertheless, as was his custom, he pulled to a stop in his driveway. His house set back from the country road just far enough to make walking to the mailbox a chore; it was much easier to grab the mail on the way in, where he could ride in the luxury of the warm pick-up. As Dan pawed the inside of the box, searching for all the pieces of mail, he thought he heard a small whimper. He froze and listened for the sound again. There it was; it was coming from the ditch, barely audible. He deposited the mail in the seat of his pick-up and walked down the shoulder of the ditch toward the tiny whimper, stopping momentarily to get his bearings on the sound.

         At the opening of the culvert where the water drained under his driveway, Dan squatted down low to get closer to the source of the whimper. Then he saw a small movement and heard the whimper again. A little black ball of fur was pressed tightly against the culvert wall, scared and wet and trembling. He reached out to pick the tiny bundle up; impossibly it tried to press itself even further against the culvert wall-another whimper. Cold, in the dark, and separated from his mother the little bundle of blackness yielded to the strange hand that firmly grasped him. He carefully carried the pup to the warmth of the pick-up.

          "Hey, fella, where'd you come from?" Dan spoke as soothingly as he could.

         The ball of blackness responded by snuggling his tiny butt further into the crook of Dan's arm, licking his wrist repeatedly. He held the pup up and checked the sex; it was a little male-looked to be a Lab. Dan smiled as he noticed the tail wagging in rapid-fire action.

          "I bet you're hungry, fella. It's much too cold and dark to spend the night in a ditch. Let's see what Linda can rustle up for you to eat." He placed the pup on the seat beside him as he drove on to the house. And, that was where Thomas had been ever since, beside him.

          "Mr. and Mrs. Johnson, you can bring Buck back now." The voice propelled Dan back to the present. The vet assistant looked to Dan and said, "The vet will see you in a moment. Can I get you anything?"

          "No, we're fine."

         With much effort, the couple directed the bundle of energy named Buck through the doors to one of the exam rooms. Dan and Thomas once again had the waiting room to themselves, where Dan returned to stroking the black Lab; and Thomas returned to his sleep with a whimper.

         There was a time when Thomas was filled with the same type of energy exhibited by Buck. As a young dog, Thomas was overly endowed with curiosity and energy. It was all Dan and Linda could do to keep the dog in check. With much work and attention Thomas slowly assumed the responsible role that was now characteristic of him. However, at first it was a challenge to harness the energy flowing through the black Lab. They were able to divert much of that energy by frequently taking long walks. On a daily basis, Dan and Thomas trudged the country trails, until very recently. Over the last few months, the walks had become a burden to Thomas' degenerated hips. Oh, the desire was there, but it had become just too painful. Consequently, Dan had taken to sitting on the porch every morning talking to his old friend and letting nature perform before Thomas' aging eyes, where they took in every movement and every darting critter in the distance. His eyes would dart from location to location. Thomas' spirit was out there in the field, running; his body racked with ails and pain lay on the porch. Somehow, it seemed to be an acceptable substitute.

          "The vet will see you now." The assistant's voice again pulled Dan back to reality. "If you and Thomas will come on back, the vet will be with you momentarily."

         Dan nodded and rose to his feet. Like so many other times before, Thomas responded to his actions. There was a time when the dog would spring to his feet anytime Dan stirred. In any case Thomas was always walking next to him, if not a little in front at times. Occasionally, he simply got in the way, becoming a roadblock to normal navigation, which always prompted a stern, "Dang it, dog! Get out of the way."

         To which Thomas would look up at Dan with an expression that said, "Hey! Live with it; this is what I do!"

         However, today was a struggle; Thomas slowly rose to his feet with a number of whimpers. He stood still for a moment looking expectantly at Dan, knowing that he would be expected to walk but dreading the pain of it all. Realizing it would hurt just as badly to be picked up, Dan knelt and spoke to his old friend.

          "That's OK fella. You take your time. It's just a little ways." Dan stroked his coat as he talked. "You walk with me just a little bit more, OK?"

         It was a very short distance to the exam room. Usually the sounds and smells of the vet's clinic would have Thomas as keyed up as Buck had been; but today all he wanted to do was find a place in the exam room and lay down, which he did. At sixty years of age, Dan was no pup himself; regardless of that fact, he knelt down beside his dog and continued to comfort him as best he could. His knees popped as he assumed a position next to Thomas; he knew it would be an effort to get back on his feet.

          "That's OK fella; you just lay down where you wish. I'll come to you this time."

         There was no way Dan could repay this black dog for the loyalty and devotion he had given. Thomas gave unconditionally, out of total trust and commitment. He owed the old back dog his very life. It was his walks with Thomas that had uncovered his heart problems years ago. The doctors told him that if he had not been walking his dog on a regular basis he would not have experienced the symptomatic pains of heart problems. They believed Dan would likely have just cut back on activity had Thomas not demanded the walks. The blockages would have simply gotten worse, existing as unsuspected and deadly problems, and then surface as a massive heart attack.

         Dan spent a week in the hospital after his quadruple heart bypass. Linda said Thomas slept by the door the entire time he was hospitalized, waiting for him to return. On the day Dan came home from the hospital Thomas checked him out thoroughly, constantly attending to him during the day, but otherwise rolled up on the floor next to him. The two had scarcely been separated since that day.

         The door to the exam room opened; the vet entered with a tray and a syringe. The vet smiled at Dan sitting on the floor.

          "You two comfortable?"

          "Yeah, I suppose so Doc-given the circumstances."

          "Of course, I know this is not easy."

         The vet knelt down to the same level with Dan and Thomas. She directed her attention to Thomas; felt of his hips and noticed a wince and a whimper.

          "Sorry, sugar, I know this hurts."

         She ran her hands down his back and scratched him a little behind the ears. Dan reached out and placed his hand on Thomas' back.

          "It will only get worse." The vet spoke softly to Dan, "soon his hips will fail totally and his internal organs will begin to malfunction. There just isn't anything we can do for old age."

         Tears flooded to Dan's eyes; he fought unsuccessfully to keep them in check. A solitary tear tracked itself into a wrinkle and disappeared there.

          "Yeah, I know Doc. But, that doesn't make saying goodbye any easier. I can understand it; but I can't keep it from hurting."

          "Would you like a moment to say goodbye?"

          "Yes, please."

          "OK, I'll wait outside for a moment; just call me when you're ready."

          "OK, Doc; but I'll never be ready."

         The vet stepped outside. Dan turned to Thomas and held the dog's head gently in the palms of his hands. He looked into those brown eyes; they looked back at him. Within those brown pools, Dan saw the trust and devotion he had always seen.

         A thought crept into his mind, "How in the world can I do this to him? I'm to be his protector-not let anything happen to him. How can I do this?"

         Tears trekked down Dan's cheeks. At that moment, Thomas licked Dan on the wrist. He had always been stingy with his licks. And then Thomas licked him again, as if to say, "It's OK, I understand."

         Dan buried his face in Thomas' fur, smelled the scent of his dog, and felt the softness of his coat. There was no doubt that he loved this dog. Dan would carry this dog around to wherever Thomas wanted to go and not be the least bit embarrassed about it. It was the very least he could do. However, Dan couldn't make the pain go away; and he couldn't stand for him to be in constant pain. He stroked his back one more time and then called the vet.

          "We're ready!"

         The vet returned to the room. Without saying a word, she walked to the syringe and approached the old dog. She knelt, scratched him behind the ears once, and then found the spot for the injection. It was quick.

          "I'll leave you two alone, now."

         The vet left. Dan edged up closer to Thomas, lifted his head, and placed it in his lap. He bent over and hugged his best friend one last time as his breathing became shallower.

          "Good-bye ole friend." Dan kissed him on the top of his head. Thomas stopped breathing. He sat alone on the floor of the exam room for a long time, just holding his dog, his friend. He knew where he would bury him. There was a tree along the trail where the two walked. Thomas had chased a hundred squirrels up that tree. He figured it was an appropriate spot to rest. He brought Thomas' favorite blanket and would wrap him in it. He had prepared to do this all before he returned home. Tomorrow would be a lonely day. However, Dan was grateful for the time the two had spent together. The relationship enriched his life. He didn't know about the theology of whether dogs would be in heaven. He just didn't worry about that, for he believed heaven would not be heaven for him if Thomas weren't waiting for him there someday.

         After a couple of months the mornings still seemed incomplete. Dan would sit on the front porch and remember how Thomas would sit next to him. Occasionally, He would take a morning walk. Every time he got to Thomas' tree, he thought he heard a familiar bark. He knew it was just his imagination, but that was no less moving for him.

         Then one spring morning, as Dan sat out on the front porch, he heard Linda call out to him.

          "Dan! you're not gonna believe this, but look what showed up at our back door." Linda motioned to the back of the house.

         Dan made his way to the back door, opened it and peered outside. Up against the side of the house, sitting on the porch was a tiny Cocker Spaniel puppy. The pup's hair was matted; and his ears were tangled. Dan walked out on the porch. With the stub of his tail wagging furiously, the pup approached. Dan sat on the top step of the back porch, reached out, and picked up the squirming pup. He smiled and said, "Hey, fella, where'd you come from?"