Even at age 92, Ethel LeFebvre is as independent as they come.

She still lives in the bungalow in South Portland that she and her late husband, Joe, bought back in 1941.

She's been a client of Meals on Wheels for only the past six months – she finally agreed to sign up when the arthritis in her hand made it too painful for her to open and close the oven door.

And until recently, Ethel had all the companionship she needed – thanks to a 12-year-old black Lab named Brody.

"He wasn't a dog," Ethel insisted this week. "He was a little person."

Two weeks ago, Brody passed away. But before we get to that, a little about him and Ethel.

Their paths crossed three years ago, just after Ethel's 14-year-old terrier, Sally, died of old age.

Brody, who belonged to Ethel's grandson, needed a home after his family moved into a condominium that didn't allow pets. Ethel, who figures she's had almost a dozen dogs in her lifetime, needed a new housemate.

So one day her grandson showed up with 74-pound Brody, the oversized dog bed, the water bowl and all of Brody's other stuff.

After he thanked Ethel for the umpteenth time and left, Brody walked into the living room, plopped down on the rug and took a good long look into Ethel's eyes. Ethel, sitting in her favorite chair, stared right back at him.

"I finally said, 'We'll get along fine, honey," Ethel recalled. "And we did."

That's an understatement.

From day one, whenever Ethel walked anywhere in the house, Brody followed.

"I'd say, 'Go ahead, Brody.' But he wouldn't," Ethel said. "It was as if he knew better than to get out front because he might get in my way and trip me."

Every night at 8 o'clock sharp, Brody got up from watching television, walked into the bedroom and curled up in his comfy bed in the corner. And every morning at 8 o'clock sharp, he was there with his nose inches from Ethel's face, waiting for her to wake up.

"If I kept my eyes closed, he might go back to bed for a while," Ethel said. "But if I opened one eye, he'd be all excited and ready to go. It was like having a child – better than a child at times. He was just perfect. Absolutely perfect."

Not to mention hospitable. Every morning at exactly 10 o'clock, Brody would take up his position by the front door to wait for the Meals on Wheels volunteers – Steve on Monday, David on Tuesday, Dot on Wednesday, Bud on Thursday and Ray on Friday. Upon hearing a car door close outside, he'd hop up on the nearby window sill, tail wagging, for a look-see.

"The minute they came to the door, he was the welcoming committee," Ethel said.

He had good reason. First, Dot Cleveland started bringing a doggy biscuit on Wednesdays. Then Ray Gross, a dog lover if ever there was one, started showing up with soup bones on Fridays. Before long, all five volunteers were bringing treats for Brody along with meals for Ethel.

"My grandson would say, 'Brody's in doggie heaven!'" Ethel said with a chuckle. "We were just two old souls together. He was the dearest, sweetest thing – there wasn't an ugly bone in his body."

But alas, there was arthritis. And, beginning in early October, other evidence that Brody's days might be numbered.

"He started having problems with the outside steps and problems with his bowel movements," Ethel said. "And then he started throwing up."

A few weeks ago, Ethel's grandson came and they took Brody to an animal hospital in Scarborough. The X-ray and blood test confirmed Ethel's fears – Brody had an infection, he had kidney and liver failure, there were signs of a tumor ...

"We got him home, and that night, he missed his bedtime," Ethel said. "I looked and it was 9 o'clock and I said, 'Time for bed, Brody!' But he couldn't walk – he just dragged his back legs behind him. He finally got in there and just fell into...