Tibby, your departure came as a sudden and unexpected shock to us. Needless to say, it's been very hard dealing with your absence. The house is not the same, and honestly we may never be the same either. It's hard to imagine that you could have had such an impact on our lives, but you did. You had a very special, loving, energetic personality that brought out the best in us, even at times when you were at your worst. Many days I thought we may have overdone it by adding you to our family. Three dogs, especially two hard-headed schnauzers, could be a handful. But I was wrong. I was so wrong. You touched our lives and earned a way into our hearts forever.
We were visiting a friend in Orlando in March 2009 when we first met you. On our way home, we passed a store called Just Puppies, and I knew we were in trouble. Of course we stopped "just to look." You were Raylan's first pick because, as you know, she has a bit of a soft spot for schnauzers. You were in a pin with your brother. The two of you looked identical, except for your size. Considering you were both the same age, he was significantly larger than you. You must have been the runt of the litter - an early sign that you were going to be special. When she held you, you must have worked your puppy magic because she was instantly charmed. I, on the other hand, was still apprehensive about expanding our family. You were so small, yet you had the cutest schnauzer cut with your ears already docked. Since Lola's ears were natural, I wasn't used to seeing a schnauzer with ears like a cat. We played with you in the play pins, and it wasn't long before you worked your magic on me. At that point, I was sold. You were definitely coming home with us.
The lady at the pet shop told us that you came from a breeder in Illinois and that you were born on January 16, 2009. We completed all the paperwork just at closing time, so there was definitely no returning you at that point. I couldn't get over how cute you were being so small, yet looking just like a schnauzer with your haircut. We let you relieve your self in front of the store, but all you wanted to do was curl up at our feet. For some reason, I remember the breeze blowing the skirt of your haircut, and you would curl yourself closer to whoever's feet you were on. Now it was time for the long ride back home. You were so well-behaved you slept almost the whole ride home. I think we stopped once for gas and let you walk around for a bit. It was dark, and again, you seemed only interested in curling up on someone's feet. That night, we made a bed for you in a plastic storage box. Once you realized you weren't actually touching anyone anymore, you started to whine. Raylan had to sleep with her arm held in your box so that you could go to sleep. You curled up next to her hand and slept through the night.
Well, we had you at this point, but you still didn't have a name. I know we considered a few different possibilities, but honestly, I can't remember them. Raylan kept thinking of a character from 101 Dalmations, Sgt. Tibbs. We decided to go with this and made it official at the vet's office, although we would just call you Tibbs. You would soon be known by many different names. Ironically, we later remembered that Sgt. Tibbs was actually a cat in the movie.
Buddy and Lola had completely opposite reactions when they first met you. Buddy, as usual, didn't seem thrilled at all to have an addition to the family. I think he might have sniffed you once and walked away. Lola, however, couldn't quite figure you out. She was so curious yet apprehensive about you. She would cautiously sniff you, but would retreat if you so much as moved. You and Lola became instant playmates, although you drove her crazy. It was so funny because you were now doing to her the same things she did to Buddy when she was a puppy. He would growl and snap at her, but deep down, he knew he enjoyed the attention. Lola, too, enjoy the attention your biting and tugging offered her. Because you were still so small, the other two dogs could easily get away from you by getting on the couch. You'd try your hardest to get up there too, but those cushions would just bounce you right off. Then one day, you did it. Now there was nowhere to hide.
Easter Sunday came, and we didn't want to leave you at home while we visited family. We took you with us to my grandparent's house. This was odd because they're not exactly the animal type. We kept you in the crate most of the time, and I don't remember you making a sound. I think the noise must have either kept you interested or put you to sleep. Finally, we took you outside to run around in the large backyard. The kids had a blast playing with you, and it seemed like you were having just as much fun. The funny part thinking back on it was that you didn't have a problem with Max yet.
As you started to get bigger, we noticed that your fur had a completely different texture than Lola. She's a black and white schnauzer, and her fur is very soft. Yours was very wirey and coarse. I remember the time we didn't get you two groomed for a while, and you both got so matted. You and Lola both looked like old mops running around. We decided it was passed time to get you groomed, and because of the mats, we told the groomer to just shave you both. I didn't recognize you when we picked you up. It had been so long since I'd seen you with short hair, that I had trouble recognizing you. Since you and Lola were both shaved, you were very close in fur color. It was difficult telling you two apart from a distance. The giveaway was always the ears, though. Yours always would stick up like a cat. When your fur started growing back, you had the cutest, softest curls on top of your head. This was the only soft fur you had.
It's funny, the differences between you and Lola. Obviously, she's female and you were male. She's black and white, and you were gray. You both had sassy attitudes at times and would have tendencies to backtalk with those half-groan, half-bark noises. Those always made us chuckle. Lola has a perfect, fast-paced tempo with her tail wags. When it gets shaggy, it looks like a pom-pom. I don't think you ever figured out your tail muscle. You would wag it, but it was so inconsistent and about as awkward as watching a right-handed person do something with their left hand. Also, Lola has a very deep, intimidating bark for her size. You had the squeakiest, high-pitched bark I've ever heard, but nothing was funnier than your howls. I can't count the number of times you thought you were alone in the house, and you would start howling. You only did this when you were alone, so we always assumed you were scared and were hoping we'd come find you soon. When we'd get home, you would hear our car in the driveway. All three of you would start barking, but there was always that one high-pitched bark that could be heard over the rest. In fact, you could hear your bark from the street. Yes, it was that loud sometimes.
You earned many nicknames. Although your name was Sgt. Tibbs, we decided that was a mouthful. Even calling you Tibbs was difficult because it was only one syllable. One day, when you were still a puppy, I remember calling, "Tibby Tibby Tibby Tibby," because it was easy to say over and over fast. You came running. This became your special call, and you knew it. The funny part was that Tibby sounds a lot like kitty, and some people call cats by saying, "kitty kitty kitty kitty." We tried this on you, and you came running just the same. We teased you about thinking your name was Kitty, so on occasion, we would refer to you as such. Besides, you looked like a cat with your ears, and you were technically named after a cat. Your other names included Tibbles, Tibbley Bibbley, Tibothy, Tibby Cat and Raylan's favorite Kitty Pig. You got that name because of your cat-like features combined with your tendency to grunt like a pig from time to time.
You loved having your ears rubbed and your chest scratched. But your most favorite spot to be scratched was on the nape of your neck. You would always extend your head forward and your eyes would become so heavy when scratched there. You loved being in peoples' laps, but you never seemed to stay in one place for very long. You were constantly and routinely patrolling the house, looking for something to get into or some dog to annoy. You didn't have a conception of personal space. Whenever you were in someone's lap, you would always put your face right in theirs and just stand there. You weren't staring at them. You were just waiting to be scratched. And kisses were extremely rare. In fact, I think I remember only getting one, maybe two, kisses from you ever.
Clumsiness was your forte. I always thought it was just puppy clumsiness, but you remained that way well into your adult size. I can't count the number of times you ran into the wall or into a table, or bumped your head on my desk while trying to jump into my lap. You were so cute though, when you'd make your rounds around the house, and you stand up against my chair and nudge your head under my arm. I couldn't help but stop what I was doing to pet you for a little bit or put you in my lap. You loved helping me work. But being the busybody you were, you'd soon jump down to patrol the house again. Typically, you'd go and do the same thing to Raylan, but when she wasn't here, you'd finally come settle down somewhere in my office and go to sleep. I'd always hear "thump" as your legs would slide out from under you and your body would crash on the plastic chair mat. Your favorite spot was under my desk next to the subwoofer. You caught many naps there while I had music playing. You, like Buddy and Lola, like to ride in the car, but I don't think you ever really learned what "go bye bye" meant. In the car, you always proved your clumsiness. The other dogs eventually learned how to balance themselves in a moving vehicle, but you never seemed to master the concept. Every stop and go would send you either forwards or backwards, especially when you'd stand with half your body on the armrest in between the seats.
As far as tricks, you didn't know many, but you were a very smart dog. Anytime you were ever told to "get in your box," you would comply almost immediately. Feeding time was another fun time. You were always fed in your crate because you had a tendency to finish your food, then help the other dogs finish theirs. So, whenever you were told to get in your box, you must have assumed that food was coming. You would get so excited, that you would rapidly march your two front feet back and forth. The noise it made against the plastic tray in your crate, was so obnoxious, but it was so cute at the same time. When you did this, Raylan said you were "making biscuits" because it looked like you were kneading biscuit dough. You'd start marching your front feet almost every time we said, "Tibby, make some biscuits." That's one trick that I will always remember about you. Whenever I think biscuits, I'll always think of you. You were also very obedient with food, although you always ate it too fast. You wouldn't touch it until I said, "Tibby eat." That was very impressive considering no one taught you to do it. Like I said, you were always a smart dog. You learned how to sit on command from the other dogs, but you wouldn't do it unless you were being enticed with a "cookie" or a throw toy. I remember the last trick we were working on. I would say, "up up up," you'd jump off the ground, and I'd catch you under your front legs and pick you up. That was quickly becoming my second favorite trick because I got to hold you afterward.
You were never shy of energy. Anytime someone was willing to throw a toy, you were willing to retrieve it, even if you didn't always give it back to the thrower. Lola used to be good at that game until she met you. You always outran her, or stole the toy from her. You were the king of tug-o-war. I even had trouble taking toys from you at times, but it was so fun. You were so aggressive and competitive with it. And nothing would beat watching you prance around the living room with a toy in your mouth just daring someone to try and take it from you. The one and only thing that ever calmed you down was a rawhide treat. I remember giving you your first one, and you gnawed on it for at least an hour.
The two things you'd get in trouble for the most would be drinking from the toilet and propping on the cabinets. I think Lola taught you how to drink from the toilet.
I remember the night you had your first seizure. We were so scared, we didn't know what to do. It was after hours, so the only option was the emergency vet in Auburn. They said it would be at least $800 to look at you, plus any procedures they had to do. Fortunately, you started to show signs of improvement and didn't need emergency attention. We weren't going to be home the next day. We were too afraid to leave you alone all day, so you got to go with us to Max's house. For some strange, yet funny, reason, you didn't like Max. You'd bark and growl at him from in side your crate, and when we finally let you out, you chased him out of his own room. We all had a good laugh at that, except Max of course. I think from that day forward, he was always a little nervous or afraid around you. He can be very animated at times, and I think that may have made you uneasy around him. Your second seizure happened at around 5:00 am on a Saturday morning. Raylan heard a commotion, and we found you with your mouth clenched around the bars of your crate. You let out a pitiful howl to let us know you needed help. We took care of you until you regained your energy, and you were fine after that. I was starting to get really concerned about your condition. Previously, I thought it might have been mistaken for low blood sugar, but this was definitely a seizure. You were such a tough little dog.
You loved being outside, but at first you seemed afraid of being left outside by yourself. You were always eager to go outside, but whenever someone went back inside, you were right behind them. You never really got used to leashes either. Before we had the fence, I would walk Buddy and Lola, and let you run free. You never strayed too far away from us, until you started getting bigger. Then I had to start using the leash. You hated it. I remember the day you and Buddy got after Rascal, the neighbor's giant labrador mix. Looking back, that was actually kind of funny.
Finally, we got a fence! You three dogs absolutely loved it, and Raylan and I loved it even more. You ran and played and dug in the mud and brought in about every dead leaf that was on the ground. Now, we could give the house a break, and let the three of you get your energy out at the same time. I don't know how we went so long without the fence, honestly. If you weren't chasing the other dogs, you were patrolling the perimeter of the fence. There's actually a trail now where you would make your rounds. If Bentley or Lexi, the neighbor's dogs, ever came outside, you'd have to have a quick shouting match through the fence. Other times, you'd be sitting at the gate, watching over the neighborhood. From there you had a perfect view of all three streets around our house. You'd bark at anybody, anything, and everything that you could see. Then, you'd come try to open the back door by running at it and hitting it with your front feet. The door usually doesn't latch that well without the deadbolt, and you accidentally figured out that you could open it yourself sometimes. You never forgot that. Then, on occasion, I'd catch you dogs all sitting in the patio furniture resting. You loved all things about the backyard. In fact, one of the last memories I have of you, is with a nose and snout completely covered in red mud. Apparently, you were digging in the mud somewhere with your face.
What could possibly be more fun that an fenced-in backyard? How about a snow-filled backyard. I remember your first snow. You dogs had a blast running in the snow and chasing snowballs. You and Lola were covered in snow, but it didn't stop you from playing. The two of you kept trying to walk all over the snow turtle that Raylan and I were building. The only way to get the snow off your fur was to give you a bath. You were the best bath-taking dog I've ever seen. You would just stand there, usually drinking the bath water, while being washed.
You died on Monday, March 8, 2010. The vet said it was from a condition called gastric dilation and volvulus or "bloat." We think you must have drank a whole bowl of water, which bloated your stomach. As you were playing and being active outside, your stomach full of water must have twisted causing the condition. I have replayed the events of that day over and over and over again to see if anything should have been done differently. We had seen your stomach bloat out after drinking water when you were a puppy. Nothing happened then, and we thought you looked like a silly, fat puppy. When I found you, you were curled next to the door. You knew something was wrong, and you knew you needed to get to us for help. Tibby, I am so sorry I didn't find you sooner. You might have had a better chance to survive. From what I've learned about this condition, the warning signs can be difficult to detect. Had I found you any sooner, I can't say that I would have known what to do. I know this is just one of life's little curveballs that can't really be predicted or prevented, but I can't help but feel a little responsible. I could have not given you so much water. I could have not left you outside for so long. I could have done a million things differently, but I just didn't know.
We buried you in the backyard so you could be with us and not be alone. As a memorial for your grave, Raylan found the perfect statue. Since you had so many kitty attributes and kitty nicknames, she found an angel kitty statue. I know you'd appreciate the irony and humor in it, and we can't help but at least smile through the tears when we see it.
You were so young, and this was so unexpected. The house hasn't been the same without you. Everything seems so dolefully quiet now. Raylan and I have both spilled our share of tears. Even Lola and Buddy seem to know something is not quite like it used to be. They haven't really left our sides since we lost you. I know they miss you just as much as we do, even grouchy old Buddy. It seems like everything in the house reminds us of you in some way. Thank you for being such a great companion. At times, I know the stress of having three dogs in a house with no fenced backyard wore on our nerves, but please know that we loved you so much. You were such a special friend to us, with such a loving personality. I looked forward to watching you grow into an adult dog, and I'd always wonder what type of dog you'd be. I know you would have been one of the best. Know that you will always hold a warm, special place in all of our hearts. We miss you so much!
With all our love, rest in peace, Tibby.
Love, Jamey, Raylan, Buddy, and Lola
