Thursday, October 3, 2013

Tilly the Wonder Dog : finis

Tilly the Wonder Dog shuffled off this mortal coil Thursday, October third, saved from additional bone cancer induced pain by the grace of the needle. She was three and a half years old.

Born in Tennessee, she spent her early years in an abusive relationship and was dumped at a kill shelter at age two with two cracked teeth and a poorly healed busted hip. She was saved by the Rescue Waggin' and brought to Michigan where she found a home with a couple of Old Farts who didn't believe kicking dogs was good sport.

Tilly loved food, fetch, tug, the occasional unwatched garbage bag, squeaky toys and licking peanut butter out of the deep hole in her rubber faux-bone-like toy. She did not like hair dryers, coffee grinders or vacuum cleaners. Thunderstorms were sent by Satan for her personal torment. Of this she was sure. Tilly was not particularly fond of other dogs either. But she adored people. Especially kids. She was a good dog. Good girl. I miss her already.

Other dogs need a break too, so in lieu of flowers the family requests you consider making a modest donation to your local Humane Society or to the Rescue Waggin'.

If you'd like to read more about Tilly, click here and here


  1. Aw, hell, Haggis - I had no idea she was sick. So sorry. I can't even imagine how beside myself I'll be when Missy's gone. Will make a donation to Rescue Waggin' in Tilly's name.

    1. Thanks, Angie. Much appreciated.

    2. I didn't know she was sick, either. Poor Tilly. She deserved a long and happy life after such a bad start. At least, you gave her the happy part. So sorry for your loss, Haggis. :(

  2. Short stories deserve happy endings too. Perhaps her limited time was fated, but peanut butter and fetch, those are gifts that would not have been afforded her without a pair of kindly old farts. We will each find THE END at the bottom of our final pages. May all of you find that your final chapters give you peanut butter and fetch.

  3. Thanks so much, Jay.

    Might be a good spot for a poem fragment--one I've been sporting as a sigline for a bit in a website you might be familiar with:

    something’s going to get you in the end.
    The numbers are fairly convincing on this,
    hovering, as they do, around a hundred
    ~Thomas Lynch,
    from Walking Papers;c=mqr;c=mqrarchive;idno=act2080.0048.218;rgn=main;view=text;xc=1;g=mqrg

  4. Oh no,

    I'm so sorry, I didn't know your Tilly was sick. She was blessed to spend her time with you and I hope you're okay. Sending in a donation in her honor and yours.


    1. You were there when we were trying to figure out a good name for her. :) And you've had more than your share of puppy losses too. I appreciate it so much and I very much appreciate your donation. Which, believe it or not is something I've forgotten to do myself. I believe I'll just go and make a dent in my Paypal account. :)

  5. Haggis, I'm so sorry about your puppy.