Tuki, my beloved wiener dog mystery mutt, died last night around midnight. I stroked her fur, looked into her gorgeous brown eyes and listened to her heartbeats wane as she went.
She was brave and tough to the end, holding on like the true fighter she was.
And everyone who knew her knew that what made her truly extraordinary was not her extremely odd and mutant beauty, her snowshoe paws, her divoted head, or her olive-loaf shape wrapped in a tuxedo wolf-coat, but that she was possessed of an untarnished spirit.
Though she was left behind and neglected for so much of her life, she was always ready to show devotion, to be a faithful dog, to love and be loved. I always had the feeling she knew she was a queen, and that all the things she was denied in those years of sadness and abandonment were hers by right. I was only too lucky and privileged to provide those things for the last years of her life, and in return she repaid me with endless silliness and grace and the kind of unexpected warmth that surprises you every time a furry snout nuzzles your hand as it dangles over the couch.
She was a marvelous companion, and I dont think Ive ever known a dog that so clearly spoke to me, so ringingly supplied the silent end of a conversation that took place entirely in my head. The voice behind those eyes was at times that of a cranky old lady, and at times that of a newborn pup, but always let me know that I was not alone, and that I belonged to her as much as she belonged to me.
In short, she effortlessly waddled into my heart and rekindled in me a love I hadn’t felt since I sat with my arm around my dog as a little boy, and in those days, I had a child’s acceptance of it; unexamined, taken for granted, and though no less deep, less consciously a source of lessons and of connection to the deep well of universal life.
And so I shall always be grateful to Tuki, to you, Ali, and to Muttville, for bringing Tuki into my life. I learned a lot from her, and she brought me so many happy hours of snuggling, of slow rambles through streets and forests and gardens, or simply digging my fingers and burying my face into the earthy scented curls of her incredible coat.
But most of all I’m grateful to her, and to you, for rekindling that childhood love, and for making me feel like a little boy with the dog that made him complete again.
For giving us both a second chance.
Love,
Evan
Tuki, wow what a mutt!! Little Tuki weighs 18 pounds and is like a small-big dog. The vet thinks Tuki is about 8 years old, she sometimes acts like a puppy. Tuki likes to be close to you, she is exuberant and vibrant and is up for a walk or a ride or just laying around. She is OK with other dogs but prefers humans and loves children! Whomever adopts Tuki will rewarded with the sweetest little companion who will always be very happy to see you!
Read a loving tribute to Tuki from her adopter.
