Something Matt wrote, I can't get anything down;
Yesterday, ironically, on the day after that Fiona decided to watch "All Dogs
Go to Heaven", Tasha died. Three weeks after going to the vet for some dental work and being
pronounced healthy, she was having trouble eating and was losing
weight. We suspected she did not like the dog food, but when she turned
down hamburger (something unthinkable for her), we thought something
more was going on. In the morning, we took her to the vet and she was
diagnosed with severe cancer of the spleen and liver and was unlikely to
make it through the week. At that point, we decided it was bet to
relieve Tasha of the pain.
Tasha was my buddy and my friend, although it did not start off that way.
When she joined me and Suz in Corvallis, she was the size of a mole.
Like all puppies, she chewed, pooped, peed, and didn't allow you to sleep
through the night ( a precursor to children???). 1 week while Suz was
out of town, I remember calling Suz ready to toss Tasha out because she
would not stop nipping me. Tasha also had an added "benefit", she grew so
fast that she was not coordinated enough to get down the stairs to go
to the bathroom outside. This was fine when she was the size of a mole…
a little more difficult when she grew to a gawky, hard to carry, 20lb
dog (a growth pattern also seemingly being followed by my children).
This was even more annoying, given it was commonly in the rain.
Tasha had 2 speeds, sprint and sleep. Among the most enjoyable things I
have seen, Tasha would get the zoomies, in which she would sprint as
fast as she could around the yard, jumping bushes, running sideways on
fences. Seeing something so big and strong move that fast and agile was
always amazing and entertaining. While living in Corvallis, we would
regular go running in Mac forest and she would get the zoomies in the
forest, which was even more impressive. On one such occasion, she met a
Weimaraner which she began to race. At that point, you saw the
difference in the Dane. While the Weimaraner was arguably quicker,
Tasha ran until he quit, because what she couldn't run around or jump
over, she would throw out her chest and bulldoze through, something the
Weimaraner was unwilling to do.
The bulldozing did not stop with running through the forest. Tasha
would regularly have epic battles with her brother, Sunny Jim, in which,
they would run at full speed and bash into each other. I would
regularly stare in amazement watching them play… wondering how they did
not get hurt. Then I would quickly realize, I was worrying about the
wrong thing. They were running full speed and not paying attention, 270
lbs. of dogs don't interact well with human knees.
When she was not sprinting or having shoulder dislocating tug of war
battles, Tasha would sleep. Her favorite thing was to lay in the sun on
the deck. We used to joke that she was cursed at birth, given several
of her siblings ended up in Arizona and California and she had us… in
the sunless Northwest. People would ask me how it was to have such a
big dog. She never felt big in the house. Many of the dogs we took
care of, labs, etc. felt much bigger because of the constant movement.
Tasha was the perfect dog for us. She would play hard, sprint, run,
when you wanted to, and would sleep in the corner or under the table
when you didn't.
When Fiona was born, Tasha changed immediately. She calmed as if she
knew she needed to. No more crazy tug of war, zoomies moved outside the
range of the infant (mostly). She could not have been better with
Fiona. Fiona could dress her up, ride her, grab her ears, and Tasha
would do nothing expect give her the occasional dog kiss. Tasha was so
good with Fiona, we worried Fiona was getting and dangerous
underestimation of dogs reactions to constant prodding.
Tasha's calmness with children, did not change her guard dog instinct.
Among the complaints of Tasha, was her barking when men would walk into
the house. While annoying at times, it was comforting to know she was
looking out for you. The family always felt safer with her around. She
picked up on caring for Fiona really early on. I will never forget
walking through the dog park with Fiona and the first time a dog came up
to Fiona, Tasha was there in a flash to make it clear, Fiona was under
her guard. Tasha also had a 'tude look. The one Fiona has inevitably picked up. I can
always imagine Tasha saying, I am doing because I want to, not because
you are telling me to :)
Tasha never really fetched, couldn't catch a ball, and seemed to have
little sense of smell. Many of the things you associate with dogs. We
would often throw treats to her, and not only would she miss them, it
would take her an exceedingly long time to find them. That said, she
had a 6th sense for jerky. Never was there a day, that I pulled a piece
of jerky out of the refrigerator, that Tasha was not there enforcing
the "Tasha Tax", a bite of jerky. This was truly remarkable, given
often she would be dead asleep in the back bedroom, wake up and walk out
droopy eyed looking for jerky. On her last day, while she turned down
cooked chicken, hamburger, and dog treats, she still ate the jerky. I
like to think it made for a good last meal.
We will dearly miss Tasha's presence in our house. The room is
physically colder with her not there. Her snores were somehow soothing
at night. Most of all, we will miss her hugs. She would lay her head
gently on your shoulder and lean against. Every morning she would get
up with me, eat breakfast and hug me before I left. She would be
waiting for me at the door with a hug when I got home. She seemed to
sense when you were down and frustrated and would meander over to offer
comfort. Tasha always seemed to give and was never mad. Before she
died, Tasha stood up and gave me one last hug.
Tasha, my bud, my friend, we love you and miss you.
