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R.I.P. Tara (my dog: 4/14/01 - 5/15/14)

The saying goes that "a dog is a man's best friend." That was definitely the case for me with my Siberian Husky, Tara. She was born on April 14th of 2001, was all white, with blue eyes, weighed in at 45 lbs. during her middle years, before reaching 60 lbs. in her later ones. She never barked, but liked to talk, as huskies have a tendency to do. She had a great amount of energy. There were times we'd go in the backyard, would line up across from one another as if we were about to square off playing football. She'd get into the play position - with her head down, eyes looking straight at me, butt up in the air, and tail wagging. Then once I said, "hike," she ran around the yard like a cheetah, I'd give a half-hearted effort of chasing her, before she finally stopped by my side for some attention, and then would get back into the play position for another round of fun. This high energy was great for both of us, as after I moved to Ohio from Nebraska and sought to lose weight, there was no such thing as too many walks in a day for her. This would become problematic during the cold and snowy winter months, as she'd play around in the snow in the backyard, and then come in and give me a look which said, "Come on, Craig. Let's go for a walk. It's nice out there." I'd then give her a look in return, which said, "What - do you think I'm crazy or something?" In the end, though, along with a better diet, the exercise I got from walking her helped me lose 45 lbs.

She and I went through a lot together - from 9/11 to a personal crisis around that date two years later to my brain surgery to breakups with girlfriends of two years and one-and-a-half years to a two-year virus I suffered to college graduation to the publishing of all twelve of my books and beyond. No matter what the day, what the occasion, or what mood I was in, she was always by my side, wagging her tail, with a big grin on her face, and even on the worst of days, I couldn't help but smile in return.

Unfortunately, as another saying goes, "All good things must come to an end." While I'd noticed her acting a tad differently in recent weeks, I just figured it was due to her getting older, losing some hearing, and perhaps changing in personality as many people do when they age. However, after she collapsed during a short walk we took on Tuesday morning, I realized there was something more to it than her aging. Then when she was taken to the vet on Wednesday morning, I finally discovered what the problem was - cancer. She had a large mass attached to her liver and the doctor had no estimate on how much longer she was going to last. Her red-blood cell count was half of what it should have been, but the vet said they were regenerative, so she perhaps had a fighting chance to last a little while longer. Unfortunately, after taking her back home that day, her condition only seemed to worsen, and I was forced to schedule an appointment to put her down this morning. I laid by her side all night, trying to console her, as she panted. As much as I hated the thought of it, after the rough night, I knew I was making the right decision. For as much as it pained me to lose her this morning, it relieved me to know she was no longer in any pain.

Tara was a lover. She'd jump on complete strangers, with a big grin on her face, and her tail wagging, to say hello. She'd go up to babies in strollers and give them a kiss. To her, everyone was a friend. There were even two occasions when she was attacked by neighborhood dogs, and all she could do was wag her tail, smile, and cry as I pulled her away from them - because she thought they were her friends too. She was a great dog, a great friend, and will be greatly missed. Thanks for all the laughs, smiles, and love these past 13 years. I feel very lucky to have been your owner and friend all these years. I hope I helped you live a happy life, and may you rest in peace.

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