We met Bob Slobbers at an adoption fair held in a pet store a few miles from our house. The dogs sat in a semi-circle, almost like a therapy group, in front of their individual crates. Billy and I split up, wandering around and reading the little biographies taped to each one. I found a scruffy mutt that seemed pretty cute. I turned to find Billy so I could show him and saw him sitting cross-legged on the floor in front of a hefty black Lab mix. They were locked in a stare-do

Billy would’ve turned forty-four today. I’d have booked a dinner for us at a restaurant that he’d think was too expensive, and I’d cajole him into ordering the New York strip despite his protests that it cost too much. Before dinner, though, back home in our living room, I’d have already arranged a row of presents that would’ve included a new cell phone, and Sirius for his car because he would’ve been whining about not having one since Mickey gave me mine at Christmas. There’