Roufus not only did not try to chase off the new dog, but seemed to take him under his wing. Dancer was just about 6 months old, or so, and still had all the puppy enthusiasm and energy.

That was good for Roufus, too. When Dancer would jump up, start barking, and run to the woods to chase a falling leaf, Roufus would be up and out with him.

At least for a while.

Roufus finally decided that Dancer called too many false alarms, and became more discriminating about when he would chase out to help. But, overall, Roufus had a new playmate and was getting a lot more exercise. It did him a lot of good.

Roufus loved to tug on one end of a rope, and Dancer was happy to oblige. Dancer would tag along when Roufus went to the woods or next door. And Roufus taught Dancer the finer points of living inside.

Dancer took to sitting very naturally, and Roufus quickly noticed the extra praise and attention that got him in the dining room and overnight began sitting as well.

Mountain Thyme had undergone some changes.

Roufus preferred the foot of the bed between us, and Dancer preferred Rhonda's pillow.

So Rhonda learned to sleep at kind of an angle with her feet near her side of the bed, but her head more in the middle.

All the cats, except Biscuit, had learned to trust the new additions, and most of the guests seemed to love them.

But all good things must come to an end.

When we discovered that his roaming also carried him across Highway 7, we began a concerted effort to catch him and dissuade him from going to the road.

He simply got more careful about being caught.

The Saturday night after Thanksgiving, 2004, Roufus didn't come in when we called. That wasn't especially unusual.

I found him in the ditch by the road. I couldn't tell that he had been hit by a car. He looked whole and peaceful. Maybe his old heart just finally gave out. We don't know for sure.

It was hard losing that sweet old dog.