The Wonderful Thing About Tiggers

It’s been a rough week at work.  My team is exhausted.  Our hospital caregivers are exhausted. Do you see a theme here?  Yep.  We’re all exhausted.

In the midst of the uncertainty of life right now, we actually received some fresh produce via delivery, and I hope to get a shipment of frozen meat tomorrow. A bright spot, considering the taxing day we’ve experienced.

You see, we lost Tigger today.

Our sweet boy

 In the midst of the pandemic and stress and fretting over basic supplies and the demands of our jobs, we were given yet one more hard thing to deal with today.  Our sweet Tigger, our 15-year old long-haired dachshund that we loved dearly, died peacefully today while we were at work.  The Husband found him when he got home today.  We were not prepared.

Just this morning, he was his usual sweet self, bouncing around in anticipation of his breakfast.  He bounced.  Since he was a puppy.  Hence the name.

This evening, he’s occupying a place in the back yard next to the other sweet canine members of our family we’ve lost.  We, once again, tell each other how we truly believe that all dogs do go to heaven and he is surely there with our precious Hildy, Daisy, and Trixie and we will see him again.  That belief is the only way we can cope with the loss of our furry children.

It was just one more thing in the middle of a hard week.

And yet, I can point to God’s mercy that with Tigger, unlike with the last three, we did not have to make some horrific decision to end his life.  We did not have to see him suffer.  God simply pulled him from this life to the next.

I think he knew he was loved.  I hope he did.

I hope you know that you are loved too.

L.