Hobo is in Doggy Heaven.

Hobo

Age 15, ~1976 - November 01, 1991

I still love you, 'Bo. Never forget that..

Nickname: My old lady, Bo

I remember it like it was yesterday. On July 4, 1976, my sister called home from work saying she had found this skinny little puppy that someone had dumped outside the restaurant where she worked. The little thing was digging in the trash for something to eat. There was no doubt in our minds what my sister would do, so that afternoon, she brought Hobo home.
We thought it was an appropriate name for her because she was so pathetic-looking when we first saw her. But lots of food and a couple brushings later, we discovered the beautiful dog she was meant to be. Of course, we worried how she'd get along with our cat, so we put them nose to nose to see what would happen. Hobo licked Cookie (the cat) on the head and they were fast friends until Cookie died.
We lived on 2 acres of land outside of town, and had a small creek near the house. It was cute to watch the two of them walk down to the creek every morning for a bath. Cookie sat on the ground, of course, and watched as Hobo got soaking wet. Once in a while, the neighbor's dog would join them, and after Cookie died and Hobo was starting to lose her sight, the neighbor's dog would lead Hobo down to the creek and back every morning.
In 1990, my mother and I moved back to town because we were taking care of her ailing parents and we needed to be closer to the hospital and doctors. Hobo had never once tried to come into the house all the time she lived, but the day we moved , she came in and came directly to my bedroom. She KNEW I was leaving and had to be with me. I swore I'd come back to visit her (my brother was going to move into the house so he'd keep her for me) once in awhile, but for some reason I never got the chance. In November 1991, he called me and said he came home and found her lying on the ground near the garage. Someone had hit her with a car, and she'd obviously dragged herself back to the garage. It was too late in the evening to get her to the vet, so he was going to do it the following morning. However, she died sometime during the night while she slept. She became the first of many in my brother's "Pet cemetery".
It has been almost 18 years and I STILL grieve for her, and hate myself for not keeping my promise to her when I moved.
My "Old Lady" was the most beautiful dog in the world. She crossed Rainbow Bridge at the age of 15.