Frasier was a 10-mo-old sickly puppy that a neighbor needed to rehome, so my husband and I adopted him as our sole pet. Being small for his breed, he exuded a take-charge Napoleonic attitude, and ran our household on his schedule. When I underwent chemotherapy for breast cancer, he became a devoted support: sleeping against me at night, waking me every morning for his first of many walks, and insisting on his meals at fixed times. Catering to Frasier's schedule, my 6-mo regimen went by so uneventfully that my oncologist made me a benchmark for his patients, and he then recommended adoption of a needy pet to all his patients to accompany them through their treatment plan. Frasier lived to 13 years, and even though we've later adopted other Pyrs, he was the best and most loved of them all.

Christine Rupp
Pittsburgh, PA