A Home Without a Dog

Tega

I cannot remember a time in my life where I did not have a pet. Most of the time that has been a dog and most of that time there have been two dogs. (I am allergic to cats) That ended yesterday.

After the death of Elsa several months ago, Tega became my last dog and was single. I had made up my mind that when I felt I could not longer give two dogs what they needed every day, I would keep the pack at two. Tega and I became that two. 

Tega came to me after spending too much time in a shelter after being returned too many times by adopters. The first one I remember was the vet tech. She was going to love Tega and she was going to deal with all her quirks. Right? Until Tega's quirks did not align with the vet tech who insisted on keeping Tega's nails cut to the quick because no dog she owned would have long nails. This resulted in her husband trying to hold Tega while this was happening. He ended up getting bit and she was returned to the shelter. 

The last time she was returned after a couple of years. The young man was in tears but Tega continued to bust out of his rental home during thunderstorms and he could not afford to continue to replace doors in his home. He wouldn't keep her in a kennel while he was working. He thought that was cruel. What was cruel was seeing her face when she was returned. She had no idea what she had done wrong. She was devastated. I promised her then I would find her a home that would keep her forever. I had no idea it would be three years later and would be with Elsa and I. 

She was okay with most people and most dogs. She adored my son and really liked men more than women. She could be bitchy and would show teeth if she was tired and wanted to be left alone. She was not fond of children. I believe when she was sleeping and snarling, showing her teeth, she was going after all those things she was afraid of.

She was terrified of thunder. She because obsessed with trying to get away from it, especially if she was alone. She would literally attempt to chew and claw her way out of anything she was in. The only thing she felt comfortable in was a hard sided, airline crate. If I was at home, she would hide in my closet which was where she slept. There was no drug, no thunder shirt, nothing that would calm her until the thunder passed. 

She developed neurological issues almost a year ago. One of her eyes was covered by her third eyelid so she began hitting things on her left side that she could not see. She began losing weight and stumbling around. I had to stop her walks because she would stumble so badly, I was afraid she would fall and I would not be able to get her up and back home. She lost control of her bowels and would go outside and inside several times, then poop when she laid down. 

A week or so ago, she stopped eating. She would nibble and once in a while eat one of her favorite snacks, but the weight loss became even more noticeable. The photo at the top of the page was take the day before she died by her Auntie Violet.

 I am in no rush to get another dog. I am going to take my time and wait until I am ready.  I will, of course, adopt another senior. Another one that someone has thrown away for stupid reasons. I think a boy this time, but he/she may pick me. The house feels empty. I have been cleaning but the dog hair still clings. I am sad but I know she is running with her old buddies from Satchel's Last Resort, Elsa, Buckeye and Brody, playing chase and catching balls. She won't lack for anything. I am at peace with that.