I don’t know where to begin. Tiger passed away this morning. She came to us over five years ago, almost dead from a serious fight with a kennel mate at her previous home. We didn’t know her whole story, but we pieced together enough to know that her beginning was a little rough.
The vets did not expect her to live after that fight. They said that, if she did, she would always walk with a limp. She lived. She did not limp. In fact, one of her favorite games was catching the water spray out of the garden hose by jumping straight up in the air for it.
Because of her past, Tiger was always a handful and a half around other dogs. Vet visits proved to be an adventure in and of themselves. She hated vet offices. HATED. Not disliked, not “I would prefer not to’. HATED. When we would leave the vet’s office, she would try to get in the first vehicle she saw, no matter that it wasn’t ours.
She was good with people except that fear dominated her reactions to strangers. As for dogs, I had to watch her like a hawk. Any eye-to-eye contact sparked a fight.
Would I have chosen a dog like Tiger? No, I was too hard-hearted. I like the easy button on everything. Extra work? A challenge? Not me. And the LORD knew that and over the years, He used Tiger to soften and expand my heart. And He used the difficulties to make me ‘bulldoggy’.
Tiger was perpetually wound up like an eight-day clock. She never seemed to be able to relax, always jumping up, always on the look out for trouble.
Now she is resting, and she will never be afraid again.