It’s the day after. The first morning to wake up without a Tippi in the world.
When we got home from the hospital late afternoon yesterday and walked into the house, we both instinctively looked for her to come running–replete with wagging tail and doggie smile.
Instead, we were greeted by a dogless silence. One of the worst kinds of silence there is.
Thankfully, Sarah and Gage came by shortly afterward bringing dinner. The dogless silence was replaced by the sound of conversation, laughter, and stories–not just about Tippi but other special moments from the past.
In the course of the conversation, we told them about our afternoon and of saying goodbye.
Steve knelt down and thanked Tippi for all the ways she had blessed him and helped him at a rough time of life. He thanked her for the comraderly car rides, the walks, and the companionship. They had a good conversation, those two.
We had a chance to sit with Tippi a few minutes before the doctor came in. She relaxed up against my leg and started her sweet puppy dog snores. Steve and I stroked her sweet, soft fur for the last time and remembered a thousand things.
My best memory is this: every day when I came home from work, I would open the door and hear Steve yell from wherever he was in the house, “Tippi, Mom’s home!”
And then both of them would arrive in the kitchen to greet me. I would get a kiss and hug from Steve, and a dance around the kitchen from Tippi before I scratched her ears and rubbed her back. And then the three of us would go into the den and Tippi would lie on the couch between us as we caught up on the day.
That brought back memories of all the hours Tippi had spent in our house before Steve and I even lived here, back when she was dearly loved by another Smith man.
I remembered how, during Covid, Vernie brought Tippi to see Ken and what joy she brought to his heart.
And I remembered how Tippi lay in Ken’s chair for hours after he went home to heaven.
No one knows for sure if dogs go to heaven. But I like to picture a scene taking place yesterday at about 4:45 p.m. as God opened the doors of heaven and shouted, “Ken and Vernie, Tippi’s home!”
And oh the joy.
Tippi is home, indeed.
Fred and Lucy,
Glad she’s no longer suffering but we miss her so much at our house!
What a beautiful post, Becky. Tippi sure was loved so very much! I believe our beloved pets do go to heaven. I know it’s so so hard right now but the days will get easier. 💜
Lizz,
Definitely looking forward to the days when it gets easier! Thanks for your words about the post.
Oh goodness. I have not kept up with your blog. I’m so sorry about Tippi. It’s so hard losing our fur babies. I know many tears have been shed over our dogs’ passing — such intense feelings. Prayers for the Smith family.
Karen,
“Intense feelings” is a good way to put it.
I know you so many of my other readers who are pet lovers can relate so well! Thanks for your sweet comment.
Such a sweet remembrance of a very special four-legged family member…love, hugs and prayers continue for you all as you adjust to life without Tippi.
SueEllen,
So true. Not all family members have two legs!
Even though we do not have a dog at this time, know that each of you are hurting once again for your furry friend. May the days get a little easier.
Sharyn,
It’s been exactly a week since she started getting sick. I feel like we have lived a year in the past 7 days. Looking forward to the days getting easier.
I understand your pain on this. We lost our sweet cat Spot two years ago. We found him on the street as a stray, and we had him for 22 years. We had him for four years before our son Stephen was born, and he and Stephen bonded from the time we brought him home as a baby. Spot would patiently let my son use him as a pillow when he was a toddler, and would wear the ridiculous construction paper Halloween costumes he made for him each year as a child. Years later, when my son was a teenager, Spot got sick with kidney failure and needed IV fluids every evening. Stephen learned to do it himself, and would expertly insert the needle and give him his fluids every day. When the day finally came to make that last trip to the vet, it was devastating. My husband and I had lived with Spot longer than we’d lived with our son, and Stephen had never known life without his cat. Stephen stayed home from school that day, and they sent him home halfway through the next day because he was too upset to concentrate at school. Two years later and we still mention Spot daily and miss him tremendously. I can tell that Tippi was a very loved dog, lucky enough to be loved and cherished by Ken and Vernie first, and then by your family. She knew she was loved, and that’s all that matters! I’m so sorry for your loss, as I know how hard it is.
Melissa,
Amazing that your son learned to do IV fluids as a teenager. A huge indicator of his love for sweet Spot.
I can’t begin to imagine losing an animal after 22 years, an animal that arrived in your home even before your child. Your stories you shared of Spot were so sweet; his patience with Stephen’s childhood antics and the love all of you shared for over two decades.
Continue to cherish those precious memories as we will do with Tippi.💕
My heart aches for you both in your loss of sweet Tippi. Sending lots of virtual hugs your way.
Thank you, LeeAnne! Learning to adjust to life without her is hard.
I choose to believe that dogs go to heaven. My husband and I talk to our dog about his “aunts and uncles” (our childhood dogs) that he will meet one day when he gets old enough. I hope the joyful memories begin to overtake the sad ones in your days to come.
Robin,
I like idea of “aunt and uncle” dogs. Made me smile.
I am so sorry to hear about Tippi! Losing a fur family member is so hard.
I, too think Tippi was greeted with hugs from Ken and Vernie!
Remember the sweet memories in your heart.
Krista,
Tippi definitely provided us with some very sweet memories. Grateful for our time with her.
What a beautiful tribute to your special girl. Coming home to an empty house, looking at an empty spot that was previously always occupied, walking past the pet aisle at the grocery store… so many hard moments. Dogs may not be people, but they are definitely family, and they leave a void that nothing else can fill. Sending more hugs as you remember Tippi and all of the good memories with which she left you.
Pam,
“Dogs are not people but they are family.” So very true.
And losing family is hard.
I’m so very sorry for your loss but what beautiful memories you have. You blessed TIppi as much as she blessed you.
I still look for my sweet baby girl, Cocoa, when I get home or get up or go to the kitchen for snacks (that girl loved snacks!) I don’t know when that gets better but I sure hope dogs go to heaven! It almost seems like it couldn’t be heaven without dogs.
Thinking of you both.
Suzanne,
Yes, I’ve been looking for Tippi all morning. She was also a snack girl so I mostly look for her in the kitchen.
Thankful for the happy memories.
So very sorry.
🥺🙏❣️
Thank you, Eb!
What good memories to hold on to.
Patti,
Yes, indeed. Hopefully we can make more memories with another dog down the road.
Oh my! So early for tears this morning. I like the picture you paint, Becky. I like to think all of our pets will greet us on the other side. God created them all. Praying for you today as you adjust to the new normal. “The Lord giveth and the Lord taketh away. Let the name of the Lord be praised.”
Lisa,
We definitely saw Tippi as a gift and treasured her as such.
We trust God with all the parts of our lives–the giving and the taking and we give thanks for the memories we made.
Just beautiful. I’m so sorry for your loss but also happy for the joy she brought so many. What a lucky dog she was to have two sets of Smiths to love her.
Thank you, Jennifer.
Yes, not many dogs get loved by two sets of Smiths! 🙂
I’m so very sorry for the loss of your precious fur baby. They are so special and bring so much joy to our lives, especially in difficult times. Virtual hugs to you both.
Cheryl,
They definitely bring joy in hard times; I think it’s one of their greatest gifts.