She was the prettiest puppy we had ever seen, and the whole family immediately fell in love with her. We named her Onyx because of her black, shiny black coat. She spent her first vacation with us when she was only ten weeks old and had her first bath and swim in the St. Lawrence River. We had no clue that this amazing little ball of fur would end up being our hero.

As she grew older, Onyx became more and more involved in our family activities. On hot summer days, Onyx enjoyed floating on the river with us in her own rubber tube (橡皮圈). Amazingly standing on the top of the tube, she smiled while showing off her perfect balance. Resting her front legs and paws over the edge of the rubber tube, she kept her eyes shut as she floated until she’d had enough of the warm sun on her black coat.

One day, our eighteen-year-old daughter, Margie, announced she was going to swim across the bay. No one in the family was free to go swimming with her. The unwritten rules, regardless of swimming ability, was to have a companion in the water with you, especially when swimming the width of the bay. I was not a good swimmer, so I said to Margie, “Take Onyx with you.” Having heard her name, Onyx woke up from a nap and was ready for action. Margie signed the dog to follow her. Onyx ran to the water next to her. They entered the freezing river together and swam side by side across the bay.

I watched from the bank as they reached the sandbar (沙洲) on the far shore. They rested a few minutes before diving into the water for the return trip. I felt uneasy for some reason and continued to watch the pair swim side by side.

Suddenly I heard Margie calling out, “I have a cram (痉挛) in the leg! ”

Seeing the pair approaching the riverbank, I breathed a sigh of relief.

A freezing downpour washed the street in front of the small-town bar. I sat gazing into the watery darkness, alone as usual. I had been in that old bar for half an hour, quietly drinking, when my thoughtful eyes finally focused on a medium-sized lump (一团) in a puddle (水洼) a hundred feet away. For another ten minutes, I looked out through the window trying to decide if the lump was an animal or just something.

The night before, a German dog named Shep had come into the bar begging for potato chips. He was starving and just the size of the lump in the puddle. Why should a dog lie in a cold puddle in the freezing rain? I asked myself. The answer was simple: Either it wasn’t a dog, or it was, he was too weak to get up.

The wound in my right shoulder ached all the way down my fingers. I didn’t want to go out in the storm. Hey, it wasn’t my dog. It was just a stray on a cold rainy night, a lonely drifter (流浪者). So was I, I thought, as I tossed (扔) down what was left of my drink and headed out the door.

He was lying in the three inches of water. When I touched him, he didn’t move. I thought he was dead. I put my hands around his chest and raised him to his feet. He stood unsteadily, and his head hung like a weight at the end of his neck. His floppy ears were just hairless pieces of flesh dotted with open sores (伤口).

“Come on, Shep,” I said, leading him to a corner next to the bar, where he lay on the cold cement and closed his eyes. A block away I could see the lights of a late-night convenience store. It was still open. I bought three cans of dog food and fed him. He couldn’t swallow but poorly look at me. He was dying!

The local vet (兽医) was still at his office, so I loaded the poor creature into a taxi and headed there.

Three days later, when I opened the door of the vet’s, Shep welcomed me with wild enthusiasm.

Snowball came into our lives one winter. Since the moment my dad brought him home, they have formed a close relationship. While Snowball was still young，my dad began training him. A good herding (牧放牲畜) dog is necessary for our farm where cows are raised, so Dad began preparing him for the role. Snowball’s determination to please my dad was amazing. Watching them herd cows together was interesting.

One summer morning when Snowball was six, he herded our cows out of the corral (畜栏). When the cows walked around and ate grass, my mom and I left home to visit my grandma. And as usual, Snowball sadly watched as my dad left for work in the truck. Although Snowball wished to go along, he made no move toward the truck, knowing he shouldn’t leave.

That afternoon, Snowball walked back to the roadside, lay down under a tree and patiently looked down the road, waiting for my dad to return. When finally seeing my dad’s truck back, he stood up right away. Moments later, my dad pulled up beside the tree. As my dad got out of the truck, Snowball ran to him, voicing his joy. And he danced happily around my dad.

Then, it was time for Snowball to herd the cows into the corral. All the cows, except a yellow one, were successfully herded into the corral. This yellow cow refused to go in, though Snowball did his best to herd it. Probably it was because the extreme heat of the day had made this cow angry. When it had no patience anymore, the cow turned and suddenly charged (进攻) at my dad, who was standing nearby. Catching Dad off guard, the cow knocked him to the ground. My dad wanted to go into the nearby truck but his legs got injured. While he was trying to stand up, the cow looked at him in preparation for charging again. Just then, Snowball rushed to help my dad.

Showing teeth and looking at the cow, Snowball stood bravely in front of my dad.

Before long, my mom and I returned home and learned what had happened.