We stumbled into Tino's life when he was just 6 weeks old, outside of our church one Sunday morning, nearly 15 years ago. There were 3 pups left out of the litter that had not yet found homes. We picked Tino because of his expressive face and his playfulness. He was also the runt, so we hoped he wouldn't get too big. Although his mother was a yellow lab, we had no idea who the puppy daddy was. His mama had a secret Summer romance on The Cape that her family didn't know about, when she was just a pup herself. Even though Tino came home a tiny pup, he grew into a large, 90 pound dog with an abundance of strength and energy.....and far too much to handle for a busy family of 5.
Our 3 children were only 6 and 8 years of age when Tino joined our family. They were too physically small to handle walking a dog who quickly grew to nearly twice their size. He was a very active puppy and remained puppyish until he was old . He was mischievous, hyper active and had really bad breath. He did a lot of naughty things to get attention.
We chose his name by lottery - we all picked one name and threw them in a hat and the youngest drew the name out that no one called him by. Even though we agreed upon his name, he was renamed by his family - over and over, and over. Benty, Werno, Mortimer, Regallon, Boy, Little, Guy, Mistah and Soup were just a few names that he carried (and responded to) over the years. The last name he was given came from my sons who called him 'Mr. Seep' (Seep for short) because he was sleeping a lot more in his old age. My husband often called him 'Idiot,' rationalizing that a dog would respond to any name with a tail wag if it was delivered without a harsh tone. I called him 'Fresh' because he talked back and always had to get the last word in.
Tino knew how to make his needs known. If he needed to be walked, he would pick up a shoe and run around with it in his mouth. That was his way of saying "put this thing on and walk me NOW." If carrying a shoe around didn't get our attention, he'd drag a cushion off the couch and pull it around until his needs were met, making him quite the opposite of an 'idiot.' If both of these actions failed, he'd find a garbage to knock over, letting us know that he was not happy with our lack of attention. He'd shred the tissues and strew the remains all over the room - putting an exclamation point at the end of his statement. I read somewhere that dogs chewed dirty tissues because they had the scent of their loved ones all over them. I thought it was just another act of obnoxious, attention seeking behavior.
Tino barked whenever anyone hugged. I'm not sure if he was excited or jealous, but either way, he had an opinion to express whenever affection was being shown that wasn't directed towards him. He was a shameless beggar - meatloaf and steak were his favorites. He'd start drooling once he caught a whiff of his favorite dinner being cooked, in anticipation of scraps that ended up in his bowl once the table was cleared. He only stole one steak over his entire lifetime. My husband left it unattended on the table while he turned off the grill, making it not really a crime, but more of a crime of opportunity. He was training us. Nope - he was not an 'idiot'.
His worst offense was the cake incident. It was my son Eric's birthday and we were going to have birthday cake after dinner. Eric and I frosted his homemade cake and put candy decorations all over it. Tino loved his children even more than they loved him. Eric's scent was all over his birthday cake. We left the room for only a little while, leaving the cake on the counter top (thinking it was out of reach). Eric returned to the kitchen to get a snack and found Tino standing on his hind legs, licking the icing and candies off of the cake. He'd got through half of it, but the cake itself was untouched. Eric burst into tears and I scolded the dog. Tino tucked his tail and sulked into a corner. I reassured my son and we got a new can of icing out and patched the cake. We all told Tino that we were going to send him to the zoo and that there would be no cake at the zoo. We'd spend the rest of his life threatening to send him to the zoo, where there wouldn't be any cake. We all willingly ate a birthday cake that we knew contained dog slobber all over it, because we loved the birthday boy, who was already upset about his cake.
Our family has endured more than it's fair share of difficult times. Tino was always there - to offer comfort and to a bring a smile to a child's face when no one else could. Sometimes loving the dog was the only thing our kids could agree upon. There were times when the kids were hurting so bad, that curling up with the dog was the only thing they wanted to do. I bargained with the dog when he was beginning to show signs of aging. I told him he needed to live until they all went away to college, so they wouldn't be around to grieve the loss as much.
The dog held up to my hopes and went beyond them. There was a short period of time when the kids were all off to college that I found myself to be completely alone. Tino was there and he never left my side. He was the family glue - the one life that touched all of ours without asking for anything in return other than meeting his basic needs and some table scraps for good behavior. He loved us at our best, but he loved us more at our worst. No human (other than maybe a parent) can offer the kind of unconditional love, loyalty and forgiveness that a dog will willingly give for a lifetime. I know having a dog is work and it's a big responsibility, but the love they give and the lessons they teach us about love, loyalty, acceptance and loss far outweigh any burden they could pose.
As his life was winding down and his expressive eyes grew cloudy, I spent more time wanting to be the one to walk him and hold his weakened legs steady if needed. I wanted to thank this lovely creature for being both a joy and comfort to my children and my family when I could not.
The one thing more painful than making the decision to allow him to die peacefully when he no longer wanted to eat, was witnessing our now grown children saying their goodbyes. My husband and I took him to the arranged appointment at our Vet's office. Our semi-retired Vet marveled at how old he was and reassured us that it was the right time. He offered us the option of not being there when it happened, but my husband immediately said "No, I don't want him to be afraid. We'll stay with him."
We both sat on the floor and stroked his back as he took his last breath, while tears poured down our cheeks. I heard my husband whisper "idiot." I grabbed his hand and squeezed it hard, then I rested my head on his shoulder. Some say that's why they don't want to get their kids a dog - because it'll hurt too much when it dies or because it's too much work and responsibility. I will be forever glad that we did get the world's best dog with the world's worst dog breath. It's true that it hurt to see my kids cry when they said "goodbye". What purpose does life hold if we avoid loving because we fear the pain of loss? Loving something or someone, and being loved in return, is worth the hurt that goes along with the loss.
I will miss his rancid breath and the opportunity to see his tail wagging when one of my family called him by one of his many names. I will especially miss the smile he brought to my now grown children's faces just by walking in the room. Thank you my dear 'Fresh' - you will forever live in the hearts of a family who you let into your life. I hope wherever you now are, there is plenty of steak and cake....all for you.
"Don't cry because it's over, smile because it happened." ~ Dr Seuss
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