God and dog are appropriate palindromes.  Both words represent the highest standard of unconditional love.  On June 14th, I lost my sweet little dog to old age.  I guess I knew it was coming, but you never think it will be that day.  I came home from work around 5:45 and didn’t find him in his usual spot in my bedroom.  My daughter had let our two other dogs outside, and they had come in with me, but where was my little old man?  I went to look for him outside and found him near the fence, unconcious.  I picked him up and brought him in.  He was breathing rapidly, and I thought that he had become overcome by the heat.  My efforts to revive him were in vain, though, for he stopped breathing a few minutes later.   We had to estimate his age because he and his sister just showed up on our carport on a cold evening in October 1997.  The estimate of his age at that time was three to six months.  His sister was adopted by a young girl who had recently lost her dog to illness.  Our veterinarian recommmended them to us.  We kept the male for a few days and decided to welcome him into our home.  Like most decisions from the heart,  it turned out to be a good one.  He gave us many years of love and laughter.  I cannot say that I rescued him, for it was he that rescued me.