Grief Has No Timetable

It's been five weeks since we said goodbye to our Tinker, but at times it feels like it just happened yesterday. Both of us have ups and downs in remembering good times, bad times, missing him and our Virginia, and the pain and sadness just doesn't want to go away. Sure, there is laughter and smiles, but it's a rough emotional Olympics.

Getting a new dog wouldn't relieve the pain. It apparently works for some people, but not the two of us. It's not like stitching up a wound. Right now that wound is open and painful. Sure, there are things we can do outside of the house that we haven't been able to in years. But coming home and not being greeted by "Mr Happy Go Lucky" and getting licked on the nose leaves a large hole in our lives.

We pet and hug and play with every dog we come across where we live and anywhere else we run into a person with a dog...or a dog with a person.

Tinker's ashes and locks of hair sit in a box within a bag on our fireplace mantle. We haven't touched it since we brought it home about a month ago. We don't want to deal with it. There are some things we have donated to rescue people we know, but the gate to the front door still stands at attention. All of the beds and several of Tinker's plush buddies still sit stacked on the living room floor waiting for when we will be able to move them. We'll keep some and donate some. It's doubtful that any will get tossed out.

The bed is gone from our room. That was one of the first things we were able to do early on, as well as moving the downstairs beds so they were no longer trip hazards. His big crate and his travel crate still sit near the living room steps to the bottom floor.

His picture (above) is still the wallpaper on our desktop computer. Seeing him makes me happy and sad all in the same breath. Speaking of breath, I miss that distinctive Tinkie breath. A musky odor that some would find unpleasant, but to us it was like lavender or berries; especially when you smelled it while he was licking your nose.

I feel like a train wreck; sad, unhappy, anxious...and C has her issues with her grief. When we lost Virginia it hurt like hell, but we had Tinker to walk, hug, kiss, play with and distract us. Now, there is no furry little one waiting around to ease our pain. I do find some temporary relief from a little dog that knows what I need. I re-injured my back right before we lost Tink and so I have been going for PT. The owner has a sweet little Sheltie, who just knows. When I pet her, while coming or going, she licks me on the nose like our boy did. If that's not a message I don't know what is.

We miss you so much Tinkie. We hope you and Virginia are running and playing, and feeling so good. We <3 you both.

Sweet Sixteen and a Final Goodbye

This past year has not been an easy one. As you may remember, Tinker injured a disc in his neck in May of 2014, which required a month of crate rest and treatment with a steroid. We were relieved that he made it through that month without undue compromise to overall function or muscle mass. However, he was having more issues possibly related to Rocky Mountain Spotted Fever, including kidney disease and GI problems, and we began administering daily subcutaneous fluid at home.

In May of 2015, Tinker began to have more trouble staying on his feet. His balance was shaky, and he would bump into the furniture as he walked around the room. We put soft bedding and barricades around the house as cushions. Sometimes he couldn't get into the proper position to take water and would need assistance. In an attempt to offset pain or stiffness, we began a weekly regimen of laser therapy and acupuncture. While it helped, some of his strength and coordination problems were rooted in his eating and digestion issues. He was still choosy as to what he wanted to eat. He was having difficulty processing and absorbing nutrients in the food he ate and started losing weight.

As with an aging person, Tinker was on a number of pills and supplements and we had to manage the delicate balance of ensuring that they were effective, were properly timed and none interacted. We tried one food, fiber, and antibiotic after another in the hopes we would find the magic elixir to stem the tide. But Tink continued to lose weight and muscle mass, especially in his hind quarters. But he was still happy. He was interactive, he knew who we were and how much we loved him and he continued to fight.

If he flopped on his behind, he would use his legs to push himself back up. Finally, this past Fall into Winter, our vet recommended one particular prescription dry kibble to mix with the cooked chicken we gave him. It was magic; Tinker loved it and his digestion was better because we had also finally hit the semi-jackpot to keep his digestion in balance by using Tylan powder. He was eating more consistently and his coat was good, but he still couldn't absorb as much of the nutrients as we would have liked. While it would change nothing to put him through diagnostic testing for a definitive diagnosis, it seemed more and more likely that what we were seeing was some form of intestinal cancer or a serious malabsorption that was causing Tinker's biggest problems.

While he began to need help with everything he did, Tinker was still a lover. He was responsive and he loved when we held him or he slept on our laps. He also began to curl up in bed with us. That was something he hadn’t done in years, partially because we didn't want to take the chance of him jumping off the bed since his disc injury back in 2005. We also dug out the cart and rear harness we had used following his injury 11 years prior… so that he could walk around the house and outside. No matter what, Tink still loved going outside, sniffing around, seeing his friends...basically, just being a dog.

He was still the amazing boy he always was. In 2015, we hadn't dared to hope he might still have been with us at the end of the summer…. yet there he was by our side as we rang in New Year’s 2016. And on February 12, he turned 16-years old. With all he had been through - his back injury, two different attacks by off-leash dogs, three different tick-borne diseases...and he was sweet 16. We were happy, but we also knew we were coming to the end of the road.

They say a dog will tell you when it's time. And when the first week of March rolled around, we knew it was time. Tink was panting more heavily than normal with less exertion, and it went on for longer than normal. He couldn't walk more than a step without flopping, and he was unable to get himself up. He was getting increasingly frustrated by not being able to do for himself, and it was heartbreaking to see. He wasn't able to be a dog any more. And no one had been better at being a dog than him.

So as we wept, on March 6 he rejoined his big sister Virginia, who he loved so much. It was so hard to let him go, but after all he has meant to us and taught us and had done for our souls, we had to be sure he wouldn't suffer.

Until we meet again, our sweet boy. Thank you for the amazing ride.

It's a Gotcha Kind of Month

April is a very busy time in our household. A birthday, our anniversary, and a couple of "Gotcha" days. For those of you that don't know, the Gotcha day marks the day you adopted (or "got") your dog and/or cat (what are those?) from a rescue or shelter. (It doesn't count if you bought your dog from a pet store... but that's a discussion for another day.)

Last Tuesday, April 20, was Virginia's Gotcha day. Incredibly, it has been 10 years since our little girl came into our lives. It's been a decade of wonderful times. Though she may be 11 years old now, she's still as nutty as ever, doing rollies on her back every night after dinner. She still does puppy zoomies around the room, flies up a flight of stairs, and is as "Beaglie" as ever... translation: very food motivated.

The nicknames she goes by these days are "Little Girl", "VA", "Sweet Pea", "Puddin'", "Punkin", "Munchkin", "Miss Beagaloo" and a few hundred other variations (no one ever said we weren't nuts).

She does have some issues, namely a sensitive stomach and her hearing is not what it used to be. But she can still break into a refrigerator like nobody's business and she is still our puppy.


Today, April 29, marks six years of a house full of Tinker. Hard to believe. Not that it is six years already, but that it hasn't been longer. Tink seems like he's been here forever. We can't remember the time before he was here and we wouldn't have it any other way.

Right now, he's squealing like a pig Tink to come downstairs. (We still do not let him do stairs himself- we serve as his personal sherpa to keep his back in as good a shape as possible). He's one nutty, fun loving dude. I don't think there's a happier, more upbeat dog (or person for that matter) on the planet.

Every day is a great day for Tinker, even those days when his back gets a little stiff. He's 10 years old, going on 2 months. And he is overjoyed at this moment to finally be downstairs and licking his sister's ears (a daily ritual).

The nicknames he goes by these days are "Boo" (evolved from Tinker Boo), "Boobadeaux" (that's his Cajun name...no, we're not Cajun), "Billy Joe Boobadeaux" (I told you we were nuts), "Boo Boo" (seems to be a theme here), "Mr. Boy", and of course, he will aways be "The Dude".

These two monkeys enrich our lives every day and in so many ways. They are fun, stress relieving little kids with fur, and just a joy to be around. We couldn't love two animals more than we love them (maybe more than some relatives, too).

There's nothing like a chew

We present a video documentary of a Beagle boy
and his treat filled kong.


Starring Tinker as the Beagle boy

Co Starring Virginia as the sleeping Beagle girl

Director's note - The noise you hear in the background is the coffemaker,
not Virginia snoring.

Any port in a storm

Tinker loves a lot of things, but Tinker does not love thunderstorms. He's not bad until the thunder gets loud as the storm gets closer... and then he begins to quiver and pace. So out comes the Rescue Remedy. 3 squirts from the spray bottle works well, and we repeat it every 15-20 minutes if the storm lingers. That and finding a "safe spot" to den in, seems to help him to manage.

Just like people do, dogs can find ways to deal with their fears. In his case, it's under the living room end table. We bring out a comforter to snuggle in and his stuffed pal Ernie, and under he goes. Pretty soon the Rescue Remedy and relaxation kick in and he nods off to sleep.


And what is Virginia doing during the storm?


"Storm, what storm? I've got boneys to chew!"

For a dog who has separation anxiety, Virginia is amazingly unflappable about everything else. Riding in the car, thunder and lightning, loud noises, etc. - no problem. During a storm she'll continue doing whatever it was she was doing- chewing on a bone, sleeping, waiting for dinner. Occasionally, she will go and lay down with Tinker, but that usually happens much later.


See Tinker's little stuffed friend Ernie curled up next to him? :)

Time Certainly Flies

This past Saturday, March 1, was the 3rd anniversary of Tinker's return home following his disk surgery (Feb 23, 2005). It's hard to believe it has been 3 years since the whole nightmare occurred, but it is not hard to believe the progress Tinker has made since that day, because of his incredible spirit.

He never ceases to amaze us. He has walked unassisted since October, 2005. We actually have to discourage him from doing some things, such as jumping up and down while waiting for his food. It's incredible how high he can leap considering he had a back injury.















We have become Tinker's personal elevator service since we don't allow him to do stairs- in an attempt to lessen the risk of a future injury. He's allowed up on the futon, but not the couch or our bed, which are both considerably higher. And we monitor his rough housing with other dogs, since he basically loses his mind in play!

Most of all, we just let the boy be the boy. And make no mistake, it took some time for us to let go of our reservations and fears and let him be himself. It is very easy to be overprotective after such a devastating injury, but there's no stopping this 21 lb. bundle of Joy.