Thirteen years ago I fell in love with a white ball of fur that wagged its tail at me from behind the bars of a city dog pound. Although I was about to 1 a steady job to follow my dream of becoming a travel writer, I decided to adopt it without a second 2 . Layla had me at the first wag. Although disappointed when I went traveling, Layla was always happy when I returned. And when I sat down to write my 3 , she would station herself next to my desk and we would have long (often nonverbal) conversations about where I'd been and what I'd seen. We 4 with each other as only animals and those who love them can.I would read aloud to her what I'd 5. Sometimes she'd offer a “woof!” for emphasis. If she turned away to concentrate on cleaning a paw (爪子),I knew I had to 6 . Of course she didn't 7 what I was writing, but this exercise with her was my 8 of self-editing. It was my way of pushing a story to a higher level. Reading to Layla turned a task into a 9. She became my virtual (虚拟的) 10 in my travels.Watching her reactions to my 11 forced me to pay attention to details. I was telling her the story 12 she were a reader. This helped 13 what I put on the page. Having such a 14 and patient audience critiquing my writing made me a better writer. In this way, I traveled the world, with Layla 15 at my side.Today I am a travel writer, and I am 16 because my friend of so long is gone. Like many old friends, she and I 17 much over the years, and I'm so 18 to her. Whatever 19 I've had as a travel writer, I owe a large part to her being at my side for all those years, 20 and simply loving.