I write this tribute for the dog that changed my life. She was perhaps my best friend, and without a doubt the best dog I ever had the priviledge to know. Tawny came into my life by accident — she was my wife’s dog before I met my wife, and Tawny was a runaway before she met my wife. When I met Tawny, she was a little hesitant to get to know me better, being my wife’s dog. After awhile, though, she warmed up to me, and eventually we were best of friends. My wife claimed, humorously, that I stole her dog.
It was Tawny who stole me, I think.
Tawny and I did everything together. She loved riding in my truck, sometimes even in the front seat. I didn’t even care about the hair — she was a great “truck-dog.” Everywhere I went, she went. I had a friend who I could count on.
Tawny had long, dark brown-black hair with a white bib, and a long face with big brown eyes. People always commented on what a beautiful dog she was, and I always agreed.
Around late November 2002, Tawny started showing signs of chronic fatigue and soreness. I took her to the vet and she was misdiagnosed with arthritis. We were to find out later that Tawny had bone cancer, and it had progressed considerably. There was nothing we could do. We had the vet give her two cortisone shots to ease her suffering, thinking she may make it another three-four months, but she only made it a week.
She stopped eating and drinking, and I had to carry her outside and in just to go potty. We knew her time was short, so I arranged to bury her at my wife’s parent’s farm near an apple tree that my wife played around as a child.
On Monday, my wife and I decided it was time to say goodbye to our beloved pet. This was an incredibly difficult decision, because we were actually planning to say goodbye to the dog that nudged our hands for pets, who slept at our bedroom door every night, who ran with us in the woods, and who placed her head on our legs when we were sad. How could we do this?
It seemed ridiculous that we would plan such a thing! We loved our dog Tawny, and we didn’t ever want to say goodbye. It was her suffering that persuaded us. To wait any longer would have been crueller than any other fate she could have endured. We called the vet and made the appointment for her that Monday morning.
I drove Tawny to the vet and let her sit in the front seat, just like she used to. I met my wife there, and I carried Tawny inside. She was light, having lost so much weight. I carried her to the exam room, and that’s where the vet met us. He explained the process, but I wasn’t listening. I was looking into Tawny’s sad, brown eyes, trying to have one last conversation with my sweet friend. I didn’t stop looking into her eyes until she took her final breath. She looked back at me, and then she exhaled a long, slow breath, and she was gone. Through the tears in my eyes and the choke in my throat, I said goodbye.
We buried her where we planned to, and I asked God to play with her, and to give her the love and sanctuary that she so deserved. I asked Tawny to forgive me for taking her life, and to wait for me on the other side. With that, my wife and
I said goodbye.
To this day, I think back to that last look, and that last breath, and I am both in agony at her loss, and comforted knowing she’s relieved from the pain. It’s only been a few weeks, so my grief is still strong. I weep sometimes when I think about that day, or days that we shared together. I miss her something awful, and I’m not sure when it will get better.
If there are other people out there who have lost a pet, and who feel like I do, I send you a prayer and all my compassion, for I know your grief and your pain.
May God bless and care for all our beloved animals, our family members, our pets, for they gave us their unconditional love and deserve nothing less. For this, I know God gave them souls, and I know my dog is truly in heaven where I will join her some day. Until then, she’s in my heart and in my mind forever.
In memory of our sweet, beloved dog,
| Tawny |
| 13, Jan 2003 |
| Mark and Dawn |