This is a story about a dog, Taffy Apple O’Freckles. I should say my wife’s dog, since I bought Taffy as a gift for her 40th birthday, after insisting for two months that we were not getting another dog after our first Brittany Spaniel named Brittany (original, huh?) had been put down. My children lost all respect for me after that.
My wife is a “dog person”, and I am a “cat person”, which of course means we have had five dogs and zero cats while we have been married. At one time, we had three dogs, which is crazy. My belief is the number of children plus dogs you own at any time should not exceed three, so when our first dog, Rosie, passed away and then our son was born, we were in adherence. When our second dog, Max, passed away, our daughter was born, so the cosmos remained in balance. By the time our third dog, Brittany, passed, we were done having children, so we in theory had unused capacity, but I was firm in my position (for the aforementioned two months).
I can justify my actions, however. First, we did have unused capacity because even after getting Taffy, we were still at the magical three number. Second, having a dog made my wife really happy so…do I really need to explain?
Anyway, I decided to surprise her. The problem was how to get Taffy from the breeder a hundred miles away to our house. I owned a small car that was five months old and would not hold a dog cage; no way was I letting a puppy sit in my car outside said cage. The havoc she could wreak on my car was unthinkable. So, I had to borrow my wife’s SUV and sneak a dog cage into it. I won’t go into the details but I was successful doing both. I drove out to the breeder, picked up our new dog and put her in the cage for the journey home. Most of the way home, I talked to her thinking the sound of my voice would be soothing. I decided to call her “Jessie” after our current babysitter since our prior Brittany Spaniel was named Brittany and we had a babysitter by that name at one time. So, for the hour and a half it took to drive back, “Jessie” got used to her new name.
When I got home, I went in first alone and told my wife to go in the bathroom so I could bring in a surprise. I went back out to the car, got Jessie and went back into the house. My son and daughter, who were nine and six at the time, were home and when they saw I had brought a dog home, in addition to their complete loss of respect for me, they reacted with utter shock.
I called my wife out of the bathroom, and despite the periodic complaining about the dog you will read about later, this one moment made it worth it. She lit up like a sun and screamed in excitement. That was a special moment, made even more memorable by Jessie getting so excited from my wife’s excitement that she peed all over me! The linkage between excitement and peeing continued for years.
But back to her name. Despite having no plans to get another dog, my wife already had a name picked out for one (hmmm…), and that was Taffy Apple, or Taffy for short. So poor Jessie had to adjust to a second name in the last two hours.
So we now had our second Brittany Spaniel. We had loved our first Brittany, but she had a very annoying habit that we later learned must be part of the breed. They pull on the leash on walks. No matter what. If you walk 3MPH, they walk 3.5MPH. If you jog, they run. If you give them a long leash, they walk out in front of you until it is fully extended and your arm is parallel to the ground. If you get a REALLY long leash (i.e. 30 foot), same result. They are impervious to the pinch of pinch collars. They laugh in the face of Gentle Leaders. Nothing would deter them from their calling.
I guess I could have tried training Taffy, but the prospect seemed so unlikely to succeed I never really bothered. I always thought I would win the battle of wills, that if I said, “slow down” and “stop pulling” enough, she would eventually succumb. I was wrong as Taffy proved to be just as stubborn as Brittany.
So for the next five years, this is how life went. I walked her most every day, somewhere between ¾ of a mile and two miles, depending on how nice a day it was and how much time I had. And she grew to expect a walk every day. In fact, if I made any movement towards our laundry room where her leash hung on a nail near our side door, she would charge into the room, sit next to the wall where her leash hung, catch my eye and then look up at her leash. If at any point I were to utter the word “walk”, her head would tilt to the right instantly. Seriously. Every time.
So we walked together. We walked at night at first, sometimes alone, sometimes with my wife, and sometimes with our kids as well. And Taffy would pull. She was never one to stop and smell the roses (or dog pee – “messages” they leave for each other, we were once told). As much as she loved the walk, her goal was to go as fast as possible. Later, when I was off work, we would walk usually in the morning, hot, warm, cool, cold, snow – pretty much anything but rain. And it continued like that for five years until…
He came.
“He” was Bailey, a Goldendoodle I agreed to let my wife get as a companion for Taffy. Bailey is a lovable oaf. “Moose” he is sometimes called. There is way too much to say about him and to do so would seriously tangent from this story so I’ll leave that for another day.
Anyway, here’s the point – Taffy was not about to let some other dog lead the way on walks so she pulled against the leash even more. At one point a few years ago I developed issues with both shoulders that required cortisone shots and physical therapy and I am convinced that water skiing down the sidewalk with these two dogs out front contributed.
And by the way, the record for greatest number of poops on one walk by two dogs is six.
We waterskied (I mean walked) in this manner for the next 6+ years. Two of the most notable experiences from this time were (1) Bailey getting the leash caught under one of his legs and spinning around and around until the leash was around all four legs and he was roped like a calf at a rodeo, and (2) Taffy getting bitten twice on the backside by another dog who came up for a sniff. After that last incident, Bailey was super protective of Taffy and warned off all other dogs who came into his sight.
Sometime a year or so ago, Taffy started slowing down to smell….everything. We couldn’t walk five feet without something interesting catching her attention. Meanwhile, Bailey still thought walking as fast as possible was the only way to go, so now I would have one arm at full extension forward and one full extension backward. I thought many times about leaving Taffy at home on walks, but I couldn’t leave my girl behind. She still perked up and ran to the spot in the laundry room where the leash used to hang (it had been moved when we remodeled our laundry room but you know how dogs are). So we stopped and started on walks, a lot.
A few months ago, Taffy’s arthritis made it difficult for her to keep up on walks, but she didn’t let it stop her. She loved the outdoors, the smells and the sights, and a walk was as much a part of her day as was eating and sleeping. Right up until about a week ago, when she heard “walk”, she came and got the collar and leash on and headed for the front door. Taffy was a tough old bird and she pushed through.
Finally, a few days ago, she just couldn’t do it anymore. She had fought the good fight for almost 13 years, and while the spirit was still there, the body had had enough. Today, we had to say goodbye to our beloved friend. I know she is up there pulling on someone else’s leash at this moment, but don’t worry Taffy, you’ll get your chance with me again one day.
So be like Taffy. Get excited. Pull on the leash for as long as you can. Find a friend who will look out for you. But when the time comes to slow down and enjoy the world, do it. Just like Taffy.
RIP Taffy. I won’t forget to remember you.
Write Brain 