Louis was my first French bulldog, years before I got Hugo. He was like an angel from Heaven sent to watch over me in a time of crisis in my life. He only lived ten years. His ashes are on my mantle, and I will carry him in my heart forever.
He was also a wonderful therapy dog for others, much beloved in the nursing home where I used to take him every week. I could hardly get him out of there!
When he was very sick, near the end, he had to have surgery to try to save his life. Dr. Jim warned me that Louis might well not make it through surgery. I sat in the waiting room, expecting the worst, but an aide ran out and said "Louis sailed right through surgery! He's in the recovery room, waiting for you!" I could hardly believe it! I ran in there, and he came to me, a little wobbly, and crawled up into my lap. He sighed deeply and laid his head on my heart. I was crying tears of joy. The aide gave me a take-home sheet of instructions, etc., and we were chatting, and finally I put Louis down on the floor to attach his leash.
But he fell over. They rushed him back into the operating room and tried to revive him. After a few minutes, Dr. Jim came out with tears in his eyes and said "I'm sorry Bill, he's gone. I couldn't believe he even came out of surgery, but I guess he was just determined not to die anywhere but in your arms."
Louis, can you hear me my pal, my angel of light? I made you a promise when you went in the operating room, that we would be together forever. I will keep my promise. May God love you as I do, and reunite us again some joyful day!