COOPER WENT TO THE VET THIS WEEK, where we learned that he's dropped a whole pound since September and is now down to 16.4 pounds; he's averaged more like 18 or 19 over the past decade, so this drop is considerable. His spirit remains bouyant, however, despite a weakening heart and crippling arthritis in his back end.

Yesterday I brought him to work with me (I work part-time in an office that's quiet on Fridays) and he slept in his little Moses basket most of the morning. Despite his increased dose of Rimadyl, he was walking poorly, often unable to stand without help and stumbling as he moved.

At one p.m., however, he showed miraculous improvement when my colleague brought her saucy little terrier mix to the office. Cooper rose from his basket, labored painfully to his feet, pulled himself up to full height, and greeted her with glee. The two danced a bit and did all the apppropriate sniffing, and for a little while it seemed he, always the Great Romantic, was four years old again.

When I tried to lead him out of the office and into the car, he laid down, unwilling to move. No, he could not stand. And no, he could not walk. He kept turning to look for the little terrier as if he could just keep her in his sight, he could dance on all four feet and hold his own on two, should she be willing ....

Cooper now sleeps, diapered, in a bassinet beside my bed. Last night he woke up only once, then settled in till morning. It's cold now, even in south-central Texas, so he lets me tuck him in with a soft fleece blanket. Perhaps he dreamed of the saucy little terrier.