Tinkerbell

After several hyper beagles, my parents desperately wanted the "yellow dog" from Funny Farm that does not even move when its tail lights on fire. So on Valentines Day, when I was eight years old, the whole family picked up our first yellow lab puppy. After bringing her home I was afraid she would cry during the night, so I slept beside her in the tiled laundry room floor with pillows and blankets. I still remember how I pushed her away throughout the night - afraid I would roll over her. But she just kept snuggling with me.

Well we named that yellow lab Tinkerbell.

And whenever I would go trick-or-treating or running, everyone would say hello to Tinkerbell. I grew up on a very large hill and I didn’t even know half the people that lived there. How did everyone know my dog’s name? Later our family found out that every morning Tinkerbell paid her morning visits to everyone on the hill and after exchanging pleasantries she would receive treats. So she was a friendly dog and beloved by everyone. Even my good friend Katie, who hates all animals, loved Tinkerbell.

As you can tell by my use of the past tense, Tinkerbell is no longer with us. Today my mom and dad finally put her to sleep. It was time - she could not see or hear well and limped. So in memory of Tinkerbell, I’m going to share some of my favorite stories about her.

Imagine young Andrew in his rubber boots and bare-chested needing to go to the bathroom. So of course the obvious solution is to simply go outside. But as proceeds to relieve himself he begins to laugh hysterically because Tinkerbell, who loves catching waters from fountains, begins to drink his pee.

I loved how she welcomed me home on the front deck with a whimpering smile and her tail wagging at life threatening speeds. I’m not kidding...that tail was a weapon. Her tail would either take you out or take out my mother's flower pots.

Tinkerbell cherished family trips to our cabin so much that she would jump in the back of the car before we put down her blanket. She could sense hours before we started loading the car that we were going there.

Tinkerbell loved rocks. And sometimes when we ran out of sticks to throw for her into the lake, we threw rocks. So Tinkerbell, being a wonderful sport, would go and snap at the water where the rocks hit the water. In fact she loved rocks so much that she chewed on them when no tennis balls were to be had. (It’s not surprising that she had hardly any teeth intact these past few years.) But my favorite story involving rocks is when there were men building a rockery at the cabin. They were throwing large boulders out of the way and they had to keep Tinkerbell from trying to catch the boulders by distracting her with throwing smaller rocks. But it only takes on time...Tinkerbell tried to catch a boulder. It hit her. She was out cold for awhile.

Tinkerbell's been a member of the family for fourteen years. It's going to be difficult to come home this Christmas without her greeting me. I'll miss my dog Tinkerbell. And as my friend Emily said to me today, "our pet's better be with us in heaven, or I'm going to hell."