Well, this is my first time posting in "Crossing the Bridge" and I've gotta admit it's as hard as I imagined it would be. I've come here a number of times and read the sad news of the passing of other's loved animals. Each time the stories brought a tear to my eye but never as many as I'm crying right now.
Earlier this week I found out I lost my job. When my mom called I was incredibly sad to find myself unemployed but I couldn't help but thinking, at least everyone back home is happy and healthy. Those phone calls are the worst kind to receive.
This evening, however, my little sister left me an Instant Message saying that my parents believed our beloved family dog Taffy had had a stroke. They had brought her into the house and given her some water but she seemed to be in dire straits. Just 30 minutes ago I checked back in with Julie and she said Taffy had indeed passed away
My mom and sister sat with her all night petting her and telling her how loved she was. I'm so grateful that she spent her last hours in the love and warmth of the home and people that were her world.
She was a beautiful dog, born during the terrible NY ice storm of 1991. Some friends of my father's brought a box filled with squirming little puppies to our house, and although my parents had declared that we would not be getting another dog, Taffy won everyone's heart instantly. As soon as she had fallen asleep in my mom's arms, I knew she'd be ours.
I was so excited the first night she stayed with us. I hogged her and insisted that she sleep in my room. I was charmed by her soft puppy fur and her floppy ears. I squealed delightedly when she nipped at me with her sharp little teeth and offered up handfuls of socks for her to play with.
One afternoon after school I was cutting up some green peppers as a snack when she came energetically bounding into the kitchen, determined to mercilessly bite my ankles. Knife in hand I ran from the room to escape her love bites and in jumping onto the couch I managed to sink the blade into my left thigh right above the knee. It's a scar that has lasted these past 12 years and one that will remind me of Taffy every time I see it.
While I am sad to know sheâ€[emoji]8482[/emoji]s gone itâ€[emoji]8482[/emoji]s almost a relief of sorts. My parents are of a different generation, raised to see animals as possessions rather than pets. Taffyâ€[emoji]8482[/emoji]s entire life was spent tied to the end of a metal chain and I believe that breaks my heart most of all. I tried my best to let her free to run whenever I could but I was a child and my priorities laid elsewhere. She would run circles around me every time I removed her chain and like a good puppy she would obediently allow me to re-tether her once playtime was over. On the coldest of nights I would beg my parents to allow her to sleep on the porch but there was always some reason she couldnâ€[emoji]8482[/emoji]t be trusted to spend a night in the house.
As I got older and developed into an adult, Taffyâ€[emoji]8482[/emoji]s quality of life weighed on my heart like a stone. I feel guilty for not doing more to make her days happier. She wanted nothing more than to be with her people. There was no greater happiness for her than a pet or a hug. I regret not giving her more of those things.
I am happy to imagine that sheâ€[emoji]8482[/emoji]s in a better place now, freely running in green pastures and napping in warm sunshine but I truly wish she could have experienced that life here on Earth with us.
Rest in Peace Sweet Taffy….you were the most gentle and unconditionally loving dog that a girl could ever ask for.
Earlier this week I found out I lost my job. When my mom called I was incredibly sad to find myself unemployed but I couldn't help but thinking, at least everyone back home is happy and healthy. Those phone calls are the worst kind to receive.
This evening, however, my little sister left me an Instant Message saying that my parents believed our beloved family dog Taffy had had a stroke. They had brought her into the house and given her some water but she seemed to be in dire straits. Just 30 minutes ago I checked back in with Julie and she said Taffy had indeed passed away
My mom and sister sat with her all night petting her and telling her how loved she was. I'm so grateful that she spent her last hours in the love and warmth of the home and people that were her world.
She was a beautiful dog, born during the terrible NY ice storm of 1991. Some friends of my father's brought a box filled with squirming little puppies to our house, and although my parents had declared that we would not be getting another dog, Taffy won everyone's heart instantly. As soon as she had fallen asleep in my mom's arms, I knew she'd be ours.
I was so excited the first night she stayed with us. I hogged her and insisted that she sleep in my room. I was charmed by her soft puppy fur and her floppy ears. I squealed delightedly when she nipped at me with her sharp little teeth and offered up handfuls of socks for her to play with.
One afternoon after school I was cutting up some green peppers as a snack when she came energetically bounding into the kitchen, determined to mercilessly bite my ankles. Knife in hand I ran from the room to escape her love bites and in jumping onto the couch I managed to sink the blade into my left thigh right above the knee. It's a scar that has lasted these past 12 years and one that will remind me of Taffy every time I see it.
While I am sad to know sheâ€[emoji]8482[/emoji]s gone itâ€[emoji]8482[/emoji]s almost a relief of sorts. My parents are of a different generation, raised to see animals as possessions rather than pets. Taffyâ€[emoji]8482[/emoji]s entire life was spent tied to the end of a metal chain and I believe that breaks my heart most of all. I tried my best to let her free to run whenever I could but I was a child and my priorities laid elsewhere. She would run circles around me every time I removed her chain and like a good puppy she would obediently allow me to re-tether her once playtime was over. On the coldest of nights I would beg my parents to allow her to sleep on the porch but there was always some reason she couldnâ€[emoji]8482[/emoji]t be trusted to spend a night in the house.
As I got older and developed into an adult, Taffyâ€[emoji]8482[/emoji]s quality of life weighed on my heart like a stone. I feel guilty for not doing more to make her days happier. She wanted nothing more than to be with her people. There was no greater happiness for her than a pet or a hug. I regret not giving her more of those things.
I am happy to imagine that sheâ€[emoji]8482[/emoji]s in a better place now, freely running in green pastures and napping in warm sunshine but I truly wish she could have experienced that life here on Earth with us.
Rest in Peace Sweet Taffy….you were the most gentle and unconditionally loving dog that a girl could ever ask for.
