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Tiffy - A Tribute Besides being the mother of my wonderful Sally (for which I would have loved her just for breathing), Tiffy was a great lady in her own right. She came into my life 13 years ago and left it on a snowy Sunday in January. Diagnosed with an unmetastisized bladder tumor less than 2 weeks earlier, ironically the medicine that was supposed to hold it in check for a few more months took them all away from her instead. Some of life's greatest gifts come in very unlikely packages. It's our nature to be attracted to pretty wrappers never suspecting the others might conceal a gem of greater value. Tiffy was such a gift, wrapped up as a little brown dog with a very big mouth with who liked to run in circles, chase cars, intimidate strange dogs .. and bite people. She chose upon our first meeting, not to bite ME, but instead to sit by my feet and get her ears stroked. She never left my side the entire time I was in her house that day, and I was as smitten with her as she apparently was with me. An unappreciated "gift" in her first home, I believe Tiffy was always meant to be my dog - even though she took a 3 year "detour" on the way to my house! She was a very small sheltie, barely 13 1/2" tall. But if the measure of a life is the impact it has on others, hers was a bit larger than average. Suffering a severe spinal injury in a freak accident when she was 6, she was an example of courage and perseverence in the face of adversity as she taught her broken body new ways to walk and run again. The doctors didn't think she's so much as stand again, but she had things to do and wasn't about to let a bunch of silly doctors and their opinions stand in her way! Her story (posted on my very first website) was stumbled upon by a handful of other families looking for hope and practical advice in a similar situation. The internet wasn't what it is today and most pet owners at the time had no access to the resources that "dog people" had. Given some information and a touch of hope and inspiration, they decided to persevere, and their dogs had successful recoveries - we kept in touch for many years. So she went on to spend many good years helping me keep the house in order - teaching manners to the youngsters, enforcing the rules, bringing me the socks which dropped on the way to the laundry and inspecting the refrigerator. All very important things! Tiffy's role in this lifetime was that of a teacher, and she played it well. Without a title to her name, she taught me more about dog training than any other dog before or since. I will eventually write that part of her story for my tips page, when I have time to do it justice. She'd become very frail in her last year and extremely dependent upon me. Taking care of her meant an exhausting amount of work and a lot of sacrifices. Would I do it again? You bet! I take my responsibility to my furkids very seriously - it's for better or for worse in the most sacred sense. People occasionally asked how I did it - I just did whatever had to be done, knowing full well that some day she'd be gone, I'd miss her and I'd catch up on the rest of my life then. She is ... I do ... and I am. I smile as I picture her waking to begin her new journey even as I shed a tear for the empty space beside my bed. Whatever awaits in her next life, she travels secure in the memory of being deeply loved in this one. So, my "little brown dog", here's wishing you all the best - but we will miss you very much! Epilogue: Like Tiny Tim's cane in the vision of Christmas yet to come, her bed remained in its place next to mine for a while, partly out of sentiment and partly because I thought perhaps Jasmine (who liked to share it with her) or one of the others would adopt it. Finally after several weeks had gone by without any of them showing any interest, I decided it was time for us all to move on so I picked it up and put it away. That very same day I went out to get my mail and there on top of my mailbox was a small package. This was odd, as I wasn't expecting anything. I looked at the label - it was from the emergency clinic where I had taken Tiffy that last day. Even stranger - I hadn't left anything there and couldn't imagine what they could possibly be sending me ... Slowly, I opened the box. Inside to my surprise were two clay ornaments, each with her name and an impression of one of her paws! In delight and wonder, I gently touched my own fingertips to each of the familiar little impressions. Once again, her feet had found their way to my door. There always was something magical about the girl ...
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