The Story Of Tiny - 1995 - 2010 - A Good Dog

On Monday, November 22, 2010, I had the unfortunate responsibility of having our loving dog Tiny put to sleep due to complications from old age. Many of you have heard of her, or met her during visits to my home. Now that she is gone, she will never be forgotten. Her story deserves to be told.

“Tiny” was a German Shepherd – Border Collie mix born on January 24, 1995 in Gloversville, NY, of a litter of 6 pups. Her owner put the pups out for adoption, and Tiny was adopted by a man that ended up being an irresponsible pet owner. He did not treat her very well, and kept her tied up in his kitchen. She would break free and run away.

In May or June of 95, Lori and her 3 kids were walking through Gloversville on their way home, when they met Tiny standing on the corner of the main intersection in town. Tiny followed them home, and at the insistence of the children, was taken in. With the 4 of them living in a 2 bedroom apartment, there was not a lot of room for a dog, not to mention the cost, so Lori put an ad in the Pennysaver to try to find the owner. A woman responded to Lori’s ad, and mentioned that the dog sounded like one from her litter, and asked her to call her “Tiny”. When Lori called, Tiny came bounding into the room confirming her identity. The girl mentioned that the owner was not the best, and asked if Lori would consider keeping the dog.

In August of 1995, Lori, the kids and Tiny packed a Uhaul trailer and were picked up by Loris parents in their cargo van (the spare cargo van that I now own). They took up residence in a rental home in DeLand, and Lori got a job working at the same place that I was working at the time; that is how Lori and I met.

Around January of 97, I started hanging out at Lori’s house…watching movies and eating dinners. I was not really impressed with the dog so much, as she had a bit of a crazy streak, no training and was not really fond of men. Tiny had never been given the luxury of training, obedience, a regular consistent routine, or the presence of an “alpha dog” in her life. This is where I came in. I was consistent in my treatment to her and she began to warm up to me. I began taking her for regular walks…she would pull madly on the way out, and then calm down on the way home. Tiny had NEVER been outside off of a leash except for the times she would get out of the house and run away. Lori had neighbors with fenced German shepherds and Tiny used to love to run out and aggravate them…crossing a busy road in the process. Once, Lori had neighbors keeping chickens in the yard, and Tiny got loose and legend has it she allegedly killed one. To this day, we joke about the 2 children that lived there, who were the only English speakers, relaying the story of the super dog that killed the chicken, LOL! (One of those “yahadda be there” things, LOL).

In June of 98, I bought the house that is basically across the street from where Lori was renting. I moved her, the kids, the dog and myself in shortly afterwards. The first thing I did was to fence off the back yard, securing an area for Tiny to be out without a leash. This was the only time she had ever known being off a leash, yet under control. I also continued with daily walks and routines. She became known at the neighborhood convenience store where I would take her, tie her up at the front door and the customers that would not be intimidated would visit with her. I shocked Lori when she came home with the kids and found me washing my car in the front yard, with Tiny off the leash lying in the grass watching me. This was the start of the payoff of my efforts. She was really responding well to me and her new routine and freedoms. Lori’s parents and family, who had heard the wild stories of a wilder Tiny even had to comment on this when they came over to visit and saw the new calmer Tiny. I like to joke and say that Tiny was the Lulu to my Sidney Poitier, referencing the movie “To Sir With Love” in which Sidney’s character transforms bratty British school kids into more proper ladies and gentlemen.

Tiny was never what you would call an affectionate dog. She became less aggressive for sure, but was never the cuddly dog that would get on a couch with you or lay in your lap, BUT she was playful with those she loved. She had the best bond with Jacky, Lori and myself. Jacky was always Tiny’s greatest champion in her youth, Lori had always been the provider and the mommy, and I was the alpha dog. One of my favorite pictures of Tiny is one I took in the yard while I was winding her up, and getting her into an attack pose, and then I shot her picture. It is very definitive of her in her youth.

In August of 2003, Foster, our Catahoula, came to join us. Tiny had always kind of ruled the roost, and it was interesting to see how this was going to pan out. After about a day, they seemed to be getting along famously. We decided to keep Foster, and Tiny had a good hand in showing him the ropes. He became very respectful of her. They shared food and water bowls and never argued over portion or dominance. They became a very good team, him being more of the rock star and attention seeker, and her more placid to be in the shadows observing. Given that she was already 8, going on 9 years old when Foster arrived, I am sure that his being around kept her young much longer.

Life together was great, and for the most part uneventful. Tiny, Foster and I went for daily walks. I never even put Tiny on a leash. She would walk all around with me and stay close enough and be obedient enough to trust off leash. Everyone in our neighborhood knew the three of us from our daily walks. Many of the people at the local businesses would come out and visit us, or ask about the dogs if they saw me without them. They loved going for rides in the van with me, and in the pickup truck around the neighborhood. When we would have the bonfires at the house, the dogs always stuck around and played host to the strangers in our backyard! That amazed me.

The year 2010 was not a great one for Tiny. Her years were catching up to her. She was slowing down physically…the will was there, but the body was not as able. She suffered a few seizures. Each time she had a seizure, we were sure that she was either going to die, or that we would have to euthanize her. The seizure days were very sad times for all of us. Remarkably, she recovered each time. The last time, she appeared to lose the ability of wagging her tail, which bugged me out a little. I always loved her tail wags when I came home, and it was odd not seeing them. I was still spending outdoor time with both dogs 3 times a day; when I woke up, before leaving for work, and when I got home from work. Tiny was also beginning to have issues with her back legs freezing up. Occasionally, she would be dragging her legs while walking. When I had to carry her back home part of the way, I stopped taking her on the daily walk with Foster.

On one of the walks after her last seizure, someone said something to me very profound, worthy of repeating. I had taken Tiny outside with no intention of taking her for the walk, and she decided on her own she was going. I grabbed Foster and allowed Tiny to walk with us. She was a little wobbly, but she wanted to do it, and she did it. A neighbor came out and said, “I thought she just had a stroke?” I explained that she did indeed and he said, “Well, I guess no one tells dogs they are supposed to be sick.” That was absolute pure truth.

Toward the end, Tiny was having a harder time navigating on the smooth wood floors…her muscles having a harder time lifting, and holder her up. Most of the time once she got going and outside, she would respond better…but needing help up the steps, etc… This regressed more than progressed. When she got to where she was unable to get up to ask to go out, and falling over outside and unable to get up, we knew a decision had to be made.

I called Lori’s Mom who works at the Vet we go to, and made an appointment for Tiny to get some peace and dignity. I spent the last hour with her in the front yard with her and Foster. She for the most part just wanted to lie in the grass. When the time came to leave, I put Foster in the house, and carried Tiny to the van. She rode on a blanket, and was alert for her last ride…seemingly enjoying being in her van one more time. I documented this with my camera, taking pictures of her smiling…a look I had not seen for awhile. I carried her into the exam room and had a final visit…hugging her to keep her warm from the cold of the table. Rosemary and Doc came in and took their positions, while I remained in front of her eyes, bidding her a final farewell, and assuring her everything was cool. She had a placid look on her face when she drew her final breath.

There is a void in my home and my heart. There has never NOT been a Tiny with Lori, or in my house, or in Foster’s world. I know I did the right thing, but that was much harder than if she had passed in her sleep. No one wants to make that decision, or take that drive. I would not wish it on anyone. I was really hoping to avoid it, but now that all is done, I am sure I did the right thing…not happy about it, but I am happy that I have given her the dignity to not have to suffer or lose her quality of life in her old age by making her linger.

That is the story of Tiny, a good dog… thanks for letting me tell it and for hearing it.