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