" Tigger "
Sept. 2 1985 ----- Oct. 16 1998
Dogs Don't Have Souls Do They?
I remember bringing you home. You were so small
and cuddly with your tiny paws and soft fur.
You bounced around the room with eyes flashing and ears flopping.
Once in a while you'd let out a little yelp just to let me know this
was your territory. Making a mess of the house and chewing on
everthing in sight became a passion and when I scolded you you
just put your head down and looked up at me with those innocent eyes
as if to say "I'm sorry but I'll do it again as soon as you're not watching."
As you got older you protected me by looking out the window and
barking at everyone who walked by. When I had a tough day at work
you would be waiting for me with your tail wagging just to say
"Welcome home. I missed you."
You never had a bad day and I could count on you to be there for me.
When I sat down to read the paper and watch TV you would hop on my
lap looking for attention. You would never ask for anything more than
to have me pat your head so you could go to sleep with your head
over my leg. As you got older you moved around more slowly.
Then one day old age finally took it's toll and you couldn't stand
on those wobbly legs anymore. I knelt down and patted you lying there,
trying to make you young again. You just looked up at me as if to say
that you were old and tired and that after all these years of not
asking for anything you had to ask me for one more favor.
With tears in my eyes I drove you one last time to the vet. One last
time you were able to stand up in the animal hospital;
perhaps it was your sense of pride.
As the vet led you away you stopped for an instant
turned your head and looked at me as if to say,
"Thank you for taking care of me."
I thought "No thank YOU for taking care of me."
Chuck Wells of Palmyra New York.
This is the the way Tigger was when he got old.
He was paralized from the middle of his back all the way
to his hind end. In the end he couldn't walk or stand anymore.
For me this essay says alot.