Goodbye Sweet Tanner

While everything initially went smoothly during our move to Singapore, our family is now dealing with the sudden, devastating loss of our loyal furry companion. The decision to leave Tanner with Brian's sister back in Texas was not an easy one but we felt we were doing what was best for him. Singapore's mandatory 30-day quarantine (not to mention the 20-hour flight) would be so stressful on him that it didn't seem worth the risk when we only planned to be here 18 months.

I'm sad to report that Tanner passed away earlier today after suddenly becoming ill. Lisa had taken him to the vet a couple days ago because he started vomiting and couldn't keep his food down. They were monitoring him when I spoke to the vet late last night here and he was concerned that Tanner might have pancreatic cancer. Within a couple hours, Tanner passed away on his own at the vet clinic. An autopsy did indeed find a tumor that caused him to go downhill so quickly.

We are in a state of shock today. Tanner would have turned 8 next month and he still had a lot of spunk in him. I missed him terribly here in Singapore and kept telling myself it was in his best interest to let him stay in Texas to be reunited with us next summer. I really didn't think he would be gone before we made it home. Of course, a small part of me feared that this would happen and he would think we had left him for good. My worst fears have now come true.

He was such a good dog. I can't emphasize enough what a faithful companion he was for our family. He had a great personality and his eyes held so many expressions - he rolled his eyes at you as if to say, "Oh, man, here we go again." He was gentle, affectionate and always wanted to be wherever we were. He would bark like crazy if he was the only one outside and whine if we left him inside alone. He wanted to be with us.

I think his happiest times were spent outdoors -- walking next to the stroller or running next to Brian or me on a jog. He liked to roll around in the front yard and eat acorns and sticks. And he loved the lake. We joked that he would drown himself someday by continuing to fetch the toy from the lake until he couldn't swim any longer.

Brian and I attended Aggie Muster on April 21, 2001, in Dallas and when we returned home, there was a voicemail from a Golden Retriever breeder we had met, telling us that her dog, Cotton, had given birth to 11 puppies earlier in the day. We visited the puppies when they were 4 weeks old and went back when they were 8 weeks old to choose ours. She had one puppy, nicknamed Stripe (for the red & white yarn collar he wore) whom her husband had grown particularly fond of but since he wasn't show quality, he reluctantly opted to sell. We became the proud parents of Stripe, registered as James Blonde. Bringing Tanner into our home was the start of our family and he was easy to love. It seemed his goal in life was to make us laugh, provide us company and do whatever pleased us.

Some of my favorite Tanner memories come from when Megan was a baby because he handled the transition beautifully. The day she came home from the hospital, we found Tanner sticking his nose through Megan's bumper pads trying to meet his new friend. The first night at home, Tanner walked up and down the hallway from our room to Megan's room when she cried, until after the 3rd or 4th time, he just laid in the middle of the hall to catch all the activity. When Megan got bigger, she stepped on Tanner's head or tummy to boost herself up on the sofa (that's when the eye rolling first began). He never complained. He never growled. He just went along with her antics in his laid-back style. Tanner is responsible for the first giggles from each of our girls and it warms my heart that his sweet and goofy personality won them over at an early age. Of course, he was happy to clean up their table scraps as well, so it was a beneficial relationship for both parties.

When we moved to Southlake, we trained Tanner to use the side yard away from the play set and pool for his doggy business. He learned that command quickly as he was a pretty smart dog. But, he knew the grass was nicer on the forbidden side of the yard and until his final days at our home, if someone else other than his masters let him out, he would pause and look back through the window to see if he could get away with using the "nice grass." When he saw them watching, he'd mope into his yard like he knew he should.

He also held a few things with such high regard that he couldn't care less what the punishment was for misbehaving. He loved towels, particularly the ones we used to bathe him. He wanted to "love" the towels, if you know what I mean. His other passion was meat, particularly sausage. My mom occasionally bought sausage from her hometown in Wisconsin and when we would have it at our house, he was focused on getting his chops around a slice or two. The taste was apparently worth whatever discipline he received afterwards.

When I spoke to the vet today after Tanner died, the doctor, who had only known him for a couple months, said, "He was a good 'ol dog. I loved that dog. He had so much personality." It meant a great deal to me to hear him say that in a genuine way because I felt Tanner must have received loving care during his final days. And it makes me smile that other people were able to appreciate what we loved about Tanner.

So I sit here on a rainy afternoon in Singapore with tears flowing down my cheeks because I'll never see those big brown eyes again. I'll never receive another wet Tanner kiss. I'll never see him used as a pillow by our girls. It simply breaks my heart. While I am thankful that he didn't linger on and suffer, as Brian and I lay in bed last night talking about our sick dog, he summed it up perfectly when he said, "I don't want Tanner to die in a vet clinic in Brownwood, Texas, all alone. He's such a good dog. He deserves better than this." We prayed that if he was so ill that he wouldn't make it, that he would go quickly without pain. And just like Tanner has always done, he pleased us at the end.