True ~ My Old Friend

My old friend, I recall
The times we had are hanging on my wall
I wouldn't trade them for gold
Cause they laugh and they cry me and
somehow sanctify me

They’re woven in the stories I have told

And tell again

My Old Friend

~ Tim McGraw

Five years ago, we said good-bye to our friend and furry family member, True. Perhaps it seems weird for me to honour my dead dog, but unless you have/had a dog, you can’t fully understand how much these creatures can affect your life. They are pack animals, and when you make the commitment to invite a dog into your home, you become part of their pack and they in turn part of your family.

My Dad always had purebred German Sheppards while I was growing up. They are arguably the smartest breed out there. Our last purebred, Cassy, had inherited chronic ear problems. True was the first dog I had of mixed ancestry (mutt is just too harsh of a word.) She was a mix of German Sheppard and Beagle. True was healthy as a horse until the end. I am a firm believer, after True, that I will always get a dog of mixed ancestry. She inherited all of the good points of the two breeds and avoided some of inherent problems associated with “pure breeds”. 



True's first day with us - in the violets

True was part of our family, and I still miss her. My sister and I got True when I was 14. She was the first dog I actively helped train and take care of. My Mom was her primary caregiver, and she in turn was my Mom’s right hand woman, never leaving her side, my Mom’s “Shadow” as she fondly called her. True helped me through a lot; she had an uncanny knack of reading us and knowing when we were upset and would come and sit with you. I know everyone says their dog was the smartest, and the greatest, but True truly was one of the smartest dogs I have ever met. She learned roll over in two tries.  Bang! You’re dead in four.  She listened to everything you said; she would stare right into your eyes, I swear she understood it all as well. (She was also always eavesdropping.)







True loved to race like a Grey Hound; if a tennis ball was thrown, it was her life’s mission to catch it before it touched the ground. Even as she aged she tried to race the tennis ball (we tried to not to throw the ball as far to humour her.) As the quintessential dog, True LOVED squirrels. It got to the point we had to spell SQUIRREL. The monkey was too darned smart for us as she learned to spell. She also learned to spell PARK. PARK was her favourite word in the dictionary, for PARK was where she could chase the tennis balls and run like the wind.



THROW THE TENNIS BALL!!!!

Running's my favourite!



I hate you.  But I love you.



True was always eager to please, even if you could tell she was scared or hated something, she would do it for us, because she loved us. She most content when her whole family was at home; she could settle in on the couch for a cuddle and relax.

She was at her happiest up north, where she swam all day, chased tennis balls thrown in the water, chased chipmunks around the picnic table and could hang out with all of her favourite people. Female dogs are typically timid, not True. True was very assertive for a female, which was mostly good, but she did have a bit of a stubborn streak. She loved to get in the car, but got carsick EVERY single time. (My Mom got good at catching the projectile vomit in mid air with a grocery bag!)

True was a camera hog and loved to party with our family. Birthdays and Christmas, she got as excited as a little kid did. I think anytime we were happy, she was happy. The camera only came out at happy occasions, so she would associate seeing the camera at a fun function. She’d get so excited that my Mom took to opening the camera down the hall, so True wouldn’t hear the camera bag opening and start barking and jumping in excitement.

This is one of my favourite photos:  My 24th birthday resulted in my celebrating with just my parents and True. Both of my sisters couldn’t make it for dinner. True surprised my parents and me by chiming in to help my parents sing Happy Birthday. She cracked us up. She didn’t sing at anyone else’s birthday so I was quite honoured!

Singing Happy Birthday


She loved to help wrap Christmas gifts (as well as UNwrap gifts); EVERY YEAR she had to lie down on the giftwrap every time I unrolled it. I would get her to move and she would sit beside me, watching intently. Her final Christmas with us was hilarious. She always loved playing with the left over gift-wrap and what ever treats Santa Paws brought her. She loved smelling the tree when it was brought in. She knew Christmas morning. She demonstrated so: we all got up in our pjs, yawning and snacking on breakfast treats and True randomly started barking and jumping in circles in the living room, it was like “Come on guys! Open gifts! I think there is one for me!” She KNEW it was Christmas morning.



Snooping and finding her gift.  Little monkey.

I moved out during what turned out to be True's last summer, and while leaving my parents and my home was hard, (I am a big suck and totally a Mama and Dad’s girl) at least I got to talk to my parents on the phone every night. So when I would go visit them all on the weekend, it was True who I seemed to miss the most. She greeted me with such exuberance she missed me too.



True lived to be 12 years old and the last year of her life she was almost completely deaf, still in good shape and in good health (or so we thought). The weekend before she got sick, I visited her, unbeknownst to me, for one last social visit. I brought my new kitten with me and she was intrigued to watch him. (True LOVED cats). She left the kitten for a bit and came over and rested her head on my lap, looking up at me. She looked old and tired.

The following Thursday my parents found True dazed and lying on the kitchen floor in her own urine (She NEVER had accidents.  She was very proud of that!) She had had a seizure and when my parents took her to the vet, they discovered she had a big tumor in her stomach that was bleeding. The vet said they could operate but advised against it, that she most likely wouldn’t have survived the surgery and if she had, we would have been in the same situation in a few weeks time. My parents decided to have her put down. My parents and I were with her when she passed. We didn’t want her to be alone.

The following week I was at the vet’s office with my kitten and True’s ashes had returned that day. I had the honour of driving her up to my parent’s, one last car ride. “My Old Friend” was on the radio; forever embedding itself in my head as “True’s Song” sometimes life is just too coincidental. We honoured True by placing her urn under a tree in the woods on my parents’ property, and surrounded the urn with tennis balls. My Mom has since brought the urn into the house and placed it on a shelf. She didn’t want the urn out in the cold. My parents’ still debate what to do with the urn.

She was a sweet, loving, funny, little character

.

Thinking of True always makes me laugh or smile. I wanted to honour her with a paragraph or two, but it kept growing, how do you sum up 12 years of awesomeness with a few short sentences?