Best Dog Ever

Big dogs die young. So, when you bring a seven-year-old 110 pound dog into your home, you pretty much know that you're on borrowed time from day one.  And when you bring that dog into a home with small children, you also have to know that some tough lessons are (not just ahead but) right around the corner.

About a week and a half ago, we said goodbye to Tasha.  I'll spare you the details of how rough things had gotten in her last days, and simply say that it was time.  Anderson Animal Hospital was awesome to work with, and I'm appreciative of them and everyone else that lent their support and sensitivity throughout the process.  Prior to being a pet owner, I'm not sure I would have even known enough to do the same for someone else.  As for Tasha, she was our first family pet.  Given that Venesa was afraid of dogs before we adopted Tasha, going from zero animals to having a polar bear as an indoor pet is a mystery all by itself.  And the story of how close Tasha came to being sent back to the pound is another story that's always fun to tell.

To make a long story short, she was an awesome dog.  She was old, not particularly mobile (understatement of the year?) and definitively past her playful puppy years; but somehow that big lump of fluff still found a way to bring joy to our house for two years and a handful of weeks.  Tasha "Stick em Up" Reyes  (Jasmine had a million nicknames for that dog, and I have no idea where she'd get them from... but stick em up definitely took the cake).   April, 2004 to September 2013.

As for the kids, they've done quite well with the loss.  Justin cried just enough to fill his quota as a caring big brother. Naomi was a bit disturbed when we pulled off from the hospital without a dog in the car ("Where's Tasha?!")... but she is otherwise (age-appropriately) clueless as to what actually happened.  Jasmine... well, Jasmine lost her best friend on the planet, and this was made obvious by the river of tears that she cried on two different days.  Day one was the day we left Tasha at the hospital, and day two occurred seven days later when we explained to the kids that Tasha "wasn't alive anymore." Granted, she was euthanized on day one, but we decided to let the kids handle their grief in stages. As expected, within minutes of both meltdowns, Jasmine moved on with the resilience of a typical 4 year old.  And while her memories of "her dog" are both fresh and fond at the moment, her age still makes me wonder exactly how much of this experience she'll actually remember when she grows up.  If my own (lack of) childhood memories are any indication, my guess is that the answer is little to none.  That seems unfortunate at first, but the truth is, no matter how many details she forgets about Tasha as the days and weeks go by... I doubt that we will ever be able to mistake the impact that owning a dog has a had on her because one thing has been made clear from the way that the she cared for, referenced, sought after, and connected with that dog:  Jasmine is officially and certifiably a life-long animal lover.