I meant to write this post months ago and tuck it away for the day it was needed. I didn't. It hurt to think about.Last Wednesday, July 8, my dear little Tinkerbell went to doggie heaven. She was a special part of my life, and I wanted to write down some memories...
Tink had two litters as a mommy for a breeder. Two of her puppies actually came to live with ladies that I worked with at the time at Central Church. I got her in a round-about way, as our receptionist had adopted her, but it wasn't working out.
I used to think Boston Terriers were odd looking, but when I met Tinkerbell, her sweet little face and big brown eyes just melted me. She was mine.
We bonded while watching the 2000 Sydney Olympics. I desperately wanted to name her "Sydney" since Tinkerbell would not have been my first choice, but I thought it might give her a complex to be renamed at the age of three. "Tink" ended up sticking, and more often than not, she earned the nickname "Stink" or "Stinker." It was her only flaw, though pronounced. :)
The first week or two she was tentative. Disinterested in toys and only mildly interested in food or cuddling, I wondered what I had taken on. I must have grown on her though. As a single gal, it was nice to have something to care for and happy to see me come home.
My parents graciously became her adopted parents when I had to travel, and I joked about sending her to "Camp Giles" for vacation. Tink was happiest when being petted, and Mom Giles was eager to please in that department. We won't talk about about the turkey and table scraps that she received at Camp Giles...
She is pictured here with my parents' dog, Jazzy. What's the opposite of "Mini-me?" Jazzy was her "Mega-Me" I guess.Tink was a great walker, depending on the weather. When I lived close to Freedom Park, we would often take early evening strolls to and around the park. If it was hot, she would stop in a cool patch of grass, roll over on her back, and stretch back and forth to cool off. She always drew attention...whether folks were excited to see her because they had had a Boston, or the few folks who were afraid of her (she was 20 pounds, people!!) and backed away because they thought she was a bulldog.
Tink was always cold indoors. Like a little old lady. At my Jefferson Drive house, I put her pink flower-shaped pillow right by the heating vent. Sometimes I thought she would crawl right in it if I'd let her! I pulled out a jacket I had for her last Fall for our camping trip, and she pretty much wore that every day around the house.
You can see from the picture why we
called her "Count Tinkula."The best moments were when she would cuddle in the crook of my legs on the sofa. In her last year or so, we developed a morning routine. I sat on the sofa, drank my coffee and put on my makeup while I watched "Good Morning America." She would always snuggle up next to me and finish her morning nap. Those last few mornings were especially hard, as I knew our little morning time was coming to a close.
Delightfully, we found a boy a few years ago who had always wanted a Boston Terrier. He must have a thing for brown eyes. :) Jerod loved the Tink, too. Last Wednesday was a pitiful day for both of us.
I will remember the way she would find a patch of sunshine streaming into the house and curl up there. I will remember how excited she would get when she realized that she was included in a road trip. I will remember that sweet face, the love she gave, and the sound of her nails on the kitchen floor when she was dancing around eager to get a treat.
We loved her so. I just hope Jesus is giving her some head scratches for me. Saying goodbye was one of the hardest things I've ever done.
Tinkerbell Giles Jones, 1996 - 2009
