My Dog Tuffy by Alice Callum July 26, 1989
My dog Tuffy died yesterday in my arms as I sat in the vet's office waiting for him to come in. How like Tuffy! She always preferred doing things her own way. Tuffy's life lasted 17 years -- most of them really happy and full of life. Even after she became partially blind 4 years ago, Tuffy enjoyed life and showed a determination and spirit that one very seldom encounters. Of course I am lonely without her, because all the little details of my life have been entwined with Tuffy's life and I came to know her very well indeed. Her leather chair, where she sat in the evenings to keep me company, looks very big and empty now.
Tuffy came to live with us the summer of 1972 as a puppy of a few weeks - for a donation of $10 to the Humane Society. Little did I know that Tuffy would, from that time on, live with me the longest. She was a little ball of white fur with brown spots and floppy ears - part terrier, part poodle, and part dachshund. Her sister had very short legs and was strange looking, but Tuffy was a happy combination of her odd heritage. She gave a lot to the family in terms of doing funny things and loving us all without reservation. Even Les, who was not a dog fancier, thought she was "really cute."
Tuffy asserted her personality at the time of Les' 50th birthday party. As a yappy little puppy she was relegated to the basement so she would not "bother" the guests. Tuffy showed her extreme displeasure by going to the bathroom in every conceivable place in her prison -- and nearly was banished from the family by an irate Les. Fortunately Jean saved the day by cleaning up the place and the dog and pleading her case: Tuffy remained with us.
I never put her off like that again when we had a party. So there she was - yapping at the door, bouncing off the guests, sitting squarely under the Christmas table while we ate, eating up the Thanksgiving cheeseball single-handed, and demanding to be there with everyone else to enjoy the occasion.
Tuffy had a loud shrill bark and could leap into the air in her prime. I took her to obedience school where she promptly became a drop out. I didn't like those people much myself and I always thought that Tuffy was just too intelligent for them and would not be ordered about by dummies. In the last year or two she stopped barking altogether, but she never stopped doing funny things and making me laugh.
In the summer of 1985, Tuffy's cataracts became apparent and she became very ill - kidneys, liver, perhaps a little stroke involved. It was then that her indomitable little spirit became so obvious. She never gave up. If she fell over, she would rest a little and then struggle on. If she banged into something because of her blindness, then she tried another avenue. She did whatever she was able to do to the absolute best of her resources and she would not allow adversity to defeat her. This is what I remember the most about Tuffy and what I admire the most.
A dog gives affection and loyalty generously without measuring them or calculating what she will get out of it. I will remember that too. She was a real friend and a good part of my life. I just think that she must be in heaven now with her bark back and, perhaps, yapping at the feet of God.
Alice Callum, Tuffy's Friend