During the last days of his life, Rex was not content to rest in his crate at night. I initially misunderstood. He would pace, and cry and scratch. I would let him out. Take him outside but that is not what he wanted.  In these last days, I tried something. I placed his bed beside mine and there at last he found a restful sleep. How is it they know? How can he come to find me, close at hand, by my side to the end? In his final days, he slept by my side, sweet dreams of a good boy. Woof woof, lick lick, good boy.