Thoughts for Friday – 5th September 2014

ImFreeTechnically not a quote this week, but a wonderful little poem I found on the internet that sums up the profound sense of loss that I feel this week.

I’m a dog lover – always have been, always will be. Thirteen years ago, a scruffy, dirt-covered puppy made its trip from Ireland, across the English Channel and straight to our front door. The poor little mite was covered in her own excrement, shaking and shivering for all she was worth, but as soon as I looked into her soulful brown eyes, I knew that this little bundle of fluff would steal my heart.

After a bath and a good toweling off, we needed to come up with a name for her, something that was befitting of her German Shepherd/Collie cross stature. We came up with dozens of names, yet none seemed to fit her better than ‘Tara’.

Once settled, we began the task of trying to house train a dog that was more intent on mischief and playing than she was learning how to take a dump in the garden and not on our laminate flooring. She was a cheeky, willful little pup but had the biggest eyes and longest tongue that I’ve ever seen on a four-legged friend. She had the kind of face that you could never stay mad with for long.

After a few months, Tara learned to answer to two names: instead of calling her Tara, we had begun to call her Monkey (mainly because of her ability to get into so much mischief) and the only time that she ever answered to her given name was when we added the word ‘no’ to the end of it. She got into so much trouble that she ended up thinking her name was ‘Tara, no’….

With her large head and paws we assumed that Tara would grow into a full-size German Shepherd but ended up stopping at the size of a collie – much to the amusement of fellow dog walkers who would ask where we got our micro-Shepherd from…. Average in stature, she had the biggest and most loving heart of any dog I’ve known. Always full of fun and wanting to play, it seemed as if Tara was the Peter Pan of dogs in that she stubbornly refused to ever grow out of her puppy-like ways.

Tara loved to play fight or cover you with her special ‘kisses’ every time you sneezed. She would bark at the hairdryer, the doorbell, the microwave and at the sound of my car pulling up in the driveway. We would howl songs together, she’d show me her best tricks in an effort to convince me to give her food from my plate. She would jump on my bed and lick me awake as soon as the alarm began wailing and she’d run and hide each time she heard thunder.

2012-11-05 11.47.34I loved her for thirteen wonderful years and watched her grow from a cheeky little pup into a cheeky elderly dog. She never once lost her joy of life or her love for those she considered to be part of her pack. Making the decision to allow her to rest peacefully and without pain was one of the hardest choices that I’ve ever had to make. Her hind legs had given up on her, she couldn’t walk, pull herself up or take herself to the garden to go to the toilet.

August 27 2014 will always remain one of the saddest days of my life, yet when I feel sad I need to remind myself of the wonderful ball of energy she was and not the aged shell of a dog that left us last week. On that last morning, she begged me with her eyes to help stop her pain and even though it broke my heart, I gave her the peace that she so desperately wanted.

I held her as her life slipped away, whispering to her that it would all be ok. I have an image of her in Heaven running freely with her canine body in its prime. I hope she’s up there having fun and getting up to as much mischief as she did down here. I will miss her every day but I am truly thankful for the thirteen wonderful years that she was a part of my life.

I love you and I miss you, little girl. Sleep tight.

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10 Comments

Filed under Thoughts for Friday

10 responses to “Thoughts for Friday – 5th September 2014

  1. I bet she is truly thankful for the 13 years of love and comfort you gave to her too. ❤

    • I hope so, Naomi 🙂

      She really was the most delightful creature I’ve ever met and never failed to make me laugh with her unique ways. I swear that she was almost human at times with the way she communicated.

      My heart is broken, but it has also been enriched for having her in my life. ❤

  2. Oh, Heather, I feel your pain and I’m so sorry. It’s a horribly sad time when you have to make that hardest of decisions. Take comfort from the great life you gave her. Big hugs

    • Thanks Cathy ❤

      It's a hard time and I am constantly questioning whether we did the right thing, but I know, deep down, that we did make the right choice to end her life when we did.

      There's a huge dog-shaped hole in my heart right now….

  3. Dear Heather,
    Thank you for sharing what must have been the most difficult time of your life to all of us.
    Its ok- she will be in the land Far Beyond waiting for you to come and play with her.

  4. You already know how sorry I am about the loss of Tara… ❤ There are no words when someone loses a beloved pet except I'm sorry.

  5. Ohhhhh, I’m so sorry for your loss Heather. I’m sure it was very tough seeing her in pain. She had a wonderful life with you, I’m sure.
    🙂

    • Thanks Staci ❤

      Tara was in a lot of pain and distress at the end of her life and so I know that we made the right decision to let her go when we did, it's just so hard not to see her or hear her bark anymore.

      She gave us thirteen great years that I will always be thankful for and I hope she's up in heaven having the time if her life ❤

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