Memories of our Big Hearted Dog

Taz was a four month old Labrador cross Maltese pup when he joined our family in 2001. James and I built him a doghouse, but he wouldn't go in, much less stay in. He slept against the back door, as close as he could get to us during the night, and there were plenty of sleepless ones for me as we tried to settle him into his new home. Alana wouldn't go into the backyard without me when she was young because she was afraid of Taz' enthusiasm. It was one of his most endearing qualities.



He bounced and jumped a lot, and craved affection. You couldn't get him to stay still, and you couldn't make him angry. He never got angry until Dr Jekyl and Mr Hyde (a Shitzu we named Gizmo who had the personality of a cat) joined the family some years later. Taz was all about love and affection and tolerance, even though Gizmo pushed him over the edge quite a few times.


He was not a smart dog, but he had a big heart. As old age and in particular arthritis, slowed him down, his increasingly frequent trips to the vet resulted in praise for the strength of his ticker. Sadly the rest of his body, his legs, ears, and eyes could not keep pace. His bouncy greetings became mere attempts at bouncing.

Taz had a hacksaw breathing pattern when he became excited which was so loud you could barely talk above the din. Sitting around wasn't really his thing, so he was always excited except when sleeping.

This evening he went to sleep for the last time. James, Alana and I were there at the vet to say goodbye, although I couldn't bring myself to say anything. I just ruffled his fur one last time and walked out.

I haven't lived with Taz for some time now, and although I missed my furry friend, I knew he was there out the back of the house, happily living his canine life.Now I feel like another piece of me has just been broken off.