Goodbye Tyler

Well, as you may know, Tyler's time with us ended on Tuesday morning. I woke up Monday night to the sound of him struggling to breathe. The tumor must have shifted or grown just enough to press further into his lungs. I took him outside and gave him another pain pill and went back to sleep. Just before my alarm went off, I heard what sounded like a human gasping for breath. I tried to pretend I didn't hear it, and I wasn't hearing that particular noise anymore, but I could still hear him struggling. So I decided to take him in as soon as the vet's office opened. I knew I made the right decision when I tried giving him a Beggin' Strip and he would barely lick it. It was time.

The decision wasn't a hard one, but it was painful. I've received a lot of support from friends and family, and I've been really busy, so I thought once today came I'd have my breakdown. Today was the first day I've been home for longer than an hour, and I picked up all his toys and treats today. But surprisingly I'm doing fine. I watched "Dogtown" on National Geographic all day while I was doing it. I don't know if that helped, but I enjoyed it anyway. I almost had a moment when I was at a campus event this afternoon and one of my residents asked me "Where's Tyler?" But I felt worse for them when I told them. It has been a real blow to my residents when they hear he's gone. He was such a sweetheart, he just made everyone feel more comfortable and at home. I'm afraid Midnight just doesn't quite cut it. He scratches and bites it.

But I don't want to think about the sad stuff here. I want to tell you about Tyler. I got Tyler from a colleague in October 2002. She had adopted him in August, but for personal reasons decided she could no longer keep him. I was looking for a dog, and she asked if I wanted him. She showed me pictures of this fluffy dog just lying on a couch. I thought about it for a couple of days and then agreed to take him. We decided to ease him into the transition by having him spend the night with me and go home to her apartment during the day. I went to pick him up and he jumped on me to say hello. Then we got into my car, and he insisted on sitting on my lap the whole way home. Thank goodness it was only a couple of blocks away! I took him up to my apartment and let him in, and he proceeded to rub himself all over the place and hopped on the couch, looking at me and saying "I'm home now, come over here and love me!" So of course I went over, and he was on my lap the rest of the night.

My first night with Tyler was fun. I'd never had a dog before, and I have problems sleeping, so when he hopped onto my bed, I told him no and put him back down on the floor. I laid down, and he hopped right back up and laid down as close as he possibly could to me. He gained about 50 pounds in that process and would not move. So I spent the night trying not to fall out of bed and trying to shove him over. I was pretty tired when I took him home the next day. When I picked him up, his other Mommy told me that after I left, he laid on the floor by the door waiting for me to come back. That's how I knew that he had picked me, and I was his person now. We'd be bestest friends for the next seven years.

I tried that night to leave him in the living room and shutting the bedroom door, but that didn't last long. At first he just pawed at the door. That was bad. But then he started whining and crying. I can't handle that! So back in the bed he went. We spent the next few months fighting over the bed thing. He'd hop up, I'd put him on the floor. Wed' do that three times before he would stay on the floor. Then around 2 AM he'd hop up again, and I learned that if I didn't take him outside at that point, I'd wake up to a mess in the living room. Then, just when we'd started making real progress, I started taking new pills to help me sleep. They knocked me out to the point that I didn't feel him when he jumped up at 2 AM. The plus side of it was that I didn't need to take him out. The minus side was that I couldn't keep him off the bed after that. So I surrendered, and it wasn't long before I had a hard time sleeping without him next to me.

When I got him he didn't really play. He had a beanie baby dog for a toy and that was it. After watching him for a couple of weeks I saw that he wanted to play, and he used my slippers to do it. So I went to the store and got him a couple of toys that had the same material as my slippers. They also squeaked. Well, that was it. My non-playful dog went nuts for the squeaks! He was in heaven! We played and played. Over the years we went through many squeaks. Sometimes he went for the kill right away, while other times he took great care to preserve the squeak. It just depended on the toy. But that first spring he caught his first baby bunny. Oh my word, I was horrified! He had it in his mouth and he was squeaking it! I got him to drop it, and I picked the bunny up with a leaf and moved him off the sidewalk. I doubt he survived, he was so small he had to have had some internal damage. But Tyler didn't break his skin--he just wanted to squeak him. Other baby bunnies and ground squirrels were to follow over the years. He was a fierce critter hunter. His biggest nemesis: houseflies. He would chase those flies for hours. He did catch a few, too. He chased them outside too, but unfortunately for him, he mostly found bees instead. He'd hunt those bees, and boy was he sorry whenever he caught one. But it didn't seem to deter him. Brave? Stubborn? Not so bright? I'm not sure.

He was the perfect residence hall dog. I had him for two weeks before I heard him bark. And when I did, it was just one bark. He was looking out the window and saw something. So he barked. Once. Over the years he did bark again at random things, and at the cat, and sometimes at things he thought were coming to get us. He was so brave, he would stand there and bark a few times, then he'd run behind me. My fierce guard dog, always there to protect and serve. The first time I had maintenance come to my apartment to fix something after I had him, I told them I had a dog, so they were prepared. But it wasn't needed. They came in, he was sprawled out on the couch, he looked up at them, said hi, and went back to sleep. As I would go on to tell my residents each year, don't worry about Tyler. He might love you to death.

Of course most everyone loved Tyler. But no one loved Tyler more than my niece Gracie (with the exception of myself and his foster parents, Mr. and Mrs. Jackson, who took care of him when I was out of town and couldn't have him with me.) Oh my. She chased him, petted him, pulled on him, laid on him and loved him all over the place. He got exasperated a lot, but he never bit her. He did snap at her a few times to warn her away, but he never came close to hurting her. He never wanted to make you angry. He just felt terrible whenever he did something "bad". He was a cuddle bunny, and when he felt bad, he'd sit real close to you. But if he was mad at you, he'd bury his face in a pillow with his butt to you. You always knew where you stood with Tyler.

He was a one of a kind doggie and he will be sorely missed by lots of people. But I take comfort knowing that he had a good life and was well loved. He didn't suffer long, and he still had "doggy dignity" at the end--I didn't have to carry him in to the vet's office, he walked in himself. I'm not going to get into the "do animals have souls" debate, because I don't know. What I do know is that Tyler was a special dog and will always have a place in our hearts. I truly believe that because of that, he is at Rainbow Bridge (or some other form of doggie heaven) and I will pick him up on my way through someday. So in honor of him, I'm posting this poem for you. My cousin sent it to my Mom years ago when she lost her dog, Sherwood. When I read it then it made me cry. When I read it now, it makes me smile.

The Rainbow Bridge
inspired by a Norse legend
By the edge of a woods, at the foot of a hill,
Is a lush, green meadow where time stands still.
Where the friends of man and woman do run,
When their time on earth is over and done.

For here, between this world and the next,
Is a place where each beloved creature finds rest.
On this golden land, they wait and they play,
Till the Rainbow Bridge they cross over one day.

No more do they suffer, in pain or in sadness,
For here they are whole, their lives filled with gladness.
Their limbs are restored, their health renewed,
Their bodies have healed, with strength imbued.

They romp through the grass, without even a care,
Until one day they start, and sniff at the air.
All ears prick forward, eyes dart front and back,
Then all of a sudden, one breaks from the pack.

For just at that instant, their eyes have met;
Together again, both person and pet.
So they run to each other, these friends from long past,
The time of their parting is over at last.

The sadness they felt while they were apart,
Has turned into joy once more in each heart.
They embrace with a love that will last forever,
And then, side-by-side, they cross over… together.
© 1998 Steve and Diane Bodofsky. All Rights Reserved.