Petro was 3 months old when I was born into the family, so we literally grew up together. She was black as petroleum, hence her name, and she was the world’s kindest dog. She would let me, an annoying kid, pull her food right out of her mouth. She was my best friend and my protector. When I was finally old enough to walk down the path to my friend’s house, but was too scared to, she would walk with me and then return home. It was no surprise that when she passed at the age of twelve, I was devastated. I happened to be staying with friends while my parents were out of town. My response required my parents to return from five thousand miles away. My despair was more than our friends knew what to do with. I have had multiple dogs since, but still remember my first best friend with the most fondness.