Tiffany PinkDog’s Blog

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Ripple is dying. Keep her in your thoughts. Tomorrow morning, the vet will come out to the house and help her along.

My poor, sweet doggy. She loved Penny very much. It just knocked the wind out of her sails, and she hasn’t recovered.


The doctor came this morning to help Penny die. I will miss her big girly barks, the way she’d dance for me, her pretty smile, and everything else about her. I’m heartbroken–we got ten more days with her, and it still wasn’t enough. Forever is the only thing that’s long enough. Here are some pics of my girl.

It’s hard to believe in God, you know? It’s hard to know without doubt that she’s okay now. I catch glimpses of it, but it’s so scary not to be able to know. I miss her.


Posted on: January 19, 2006

My sweet Penny is dying. Please think of us, and wish me the strength and wisdom to do the right thing when the right time comes. I am always afraid that I will wait too long or react too quickly.

She’s a sweet baby dog. Sometimes I wonder, for only a second, why I take the old doggies in. I know I’ll only have two or three years before they die. But the answer is so obvious: I’d rather have known Penny for three years and go through the pain of losing her, than never have known her at all. I love my sweet girlywirl.

Here is the new carpet. As you can see, it looks just like normal carpet. Bessie and Penny still prefer to lay in beds…

…but Ripple enjoys the new carpet very much and chooses to lay on it instead, most of the time.

Posted on: May 12, 2004

Goodbye, Friend

The doctor came this morning and said that from all the symptoms and the description of his decline, Stetson had bone cancer.

He got a good night’s sleep last night. Thank you, God. This morning, the shot put him out of his pain.

It was an honor to care for him these past years, and I wouldn’t trade a moment of it. He was a sweet, sweet doggie soul.

We buried him outside the back gate of our yard, just inside the woods. He was so small after his spirit left him, and his body so heavy. Those who say that life is entirely biological and nothing magical or spiritual just haven’t touched it with their own hands yet.

Posted on: May 11, 2004


My Stetson is dying. Around 10 pm he began screaming whenever he tried to move. Tom and I called all over the place to find an emergency clinic that would make a housecall. Poor little buddy is in too much pain to move, much less get picked up and stuffed in the car, driven somewhere, and hauled inside.

Finally a vet called us back. Most of the “emergency” services around here apparently are bogus. This was a kind veterinarian who cannot come out now, at almost 1 am, but he will come to our house at 8 am and put my beloved friend out of pain.

It breaks my heart to see him suffer so. And to hear that scream. It’s going to be a long night. I love him and I’m shattered by this. You’re just never ready to say goodbye.

He’s been my best friend ever since Deoji died. You can tell a dog all your secrets, share with him anything. I pray that he is able to get a little sleep tonight, and that the hours pass quickly.

Posted on: May 6, 2004

Feeling better

Perhaps all my gloom and doom over Stetson was unfounded. He seems to be feeling a lot better today. A few days of Tom carrying him down the stairs may have rested his poor back legs. You know, those legs have never worked well since his accident two years ago.

His appetite is returning. He still needs a lot of help standing up and moving around, but he can reposition himself in bed and prop up on his elbows so that you can put his dish between his paws. I think we may be looking at a permanent loss of physical ability, but his current level is tolerable to us and, I think, to him. If we carry him out into the yard he’ll lay in the grass just like old times, and he can move around the house a little.

He needs help with his toilet, and he’s had some accidents, but hey–Deoji always had accidents and I never cared. You just don’t care about those little things when you love someone.

So, I feel a little happier today. It has been a hard two weeks! My grandmother, Stetson’s problems…and the two year anniversary of Jason’s suicide was a few days ago. I got an email from his little sister. She’s somewhat mentally handicapped, and I think I’m the only one of his old friends that she feels comfortable trying to talk to. I remember, at the funeral home, she had signed the guest book about 15 times–once for each time she’d left the room and come back in.


So later today, I’m going to sit outside for a while and watch Stetson lay in the grass, and just be happy.