small good-byes

Rest in Peace, Tandi (the Best Dog Ever)
1997 - 2011

Even when you know what's coming just around the corner, saying goodbye sucks, plain and simple. There's something bittersweet about the fact that your relationship with your pet can be one of the closest in your life, but your lifespans don't match up, not even a little bit.

But for the record, Tandi was 14, or 98 in dog years. That's a lucky dog, I'd say. There have been some tears and some smiles and all in all, there are worse ways than old-age-and-illness to lose a pet. I can't help but think how strange it will be at Christmas to open presents with the family without a pug snorting her way out the piles of wrapping paper and ribbons. Of course, we still have my sister's dog, who is a puggle (half pug, half beagle), but her countenance is, shall we say, a bit different. I think Darcy gets more pug-like as she gets older, though; that is to say that she grows a bit fatter and more apt to snort and snore. But no doubt she'd still say she's her own man, by Jove (I imagine Darcy to speak a bit like a Victorian gentleman), and we must admit to that truth: there's no replacement for Tandi herself.

To quote my dad, she's in eternal doggy rest, and to paraphrase a friend, regardless of your beliefs, we know all dogs go to heaven. I'll fondly brush this bit of fur off my coat and remind myself of that. Farewell, puglet.

~