Taz
A donation was made in memory of Taz by Doctors and Staff of the Haigh Veterinary Hospital on May 02, 2012.
Taz – November 1997 – April 2012
Oh, look Gerry! Let’s get the one who picked up the stick. And so, Taz entered our lives and our hearts over fourteen years ago.
When we got him home, we were struggling on a good name. Suddenly, he erupted from behind a hassock in a whirlwind of shredded newspaper, our own Tasmanian Devil.
Taz loved to fetch. I would take a Kong on a rope up to the drainfield meadow and throw for him for at least a half hour. I could whip the Kong uphill about 200 feet and Taz would race uphill and be almost at the landing spot when the Kong came down. About every fifth toss, I would snooker him with a false throw. Uphill he would race. Meanwhile, I would quietly toss the Kong left or right at low angle so that it would land before he reached the high point. Taz would stop where he expected the Kong, turn around and look at me. Then I would give him hand signals to direct him close to where it had landed. Within seconds, he would be running back triumphant, drop the Kong at my feet and wait for the next throw. I never saw him tire.
He was an attentive watch dog. Not as fanatical as Ranger (our German Shepherd), but you could count on a couple of loud “Woof’s” if something was going on. But, he was friendly and gentle especially with our friends. And he loved snacks. Whenever Lynda was eating something, Taz was right at her hip, expecting at least one handout. Lynda was a soft touch and Taz always got his reward.
He was very good at catching popcorn. Far better than Dazee. Same with chips. Great eye-mouth coordination.
He got old. Losing his buddy Ranger last Fall was a blow for Taz and for us. During this winter, he loved to go out to the big yard whenever possible. It didn’t matter if it was raining buckets. I would just have the towels ready when he wanted to come back in.
His age showed more and more, but he was doing okay until today. Didn’t want to eat this morning and sort of struggled wandering around the yard. Midday he was almost in a coma. I got him into the car and up to the Haigh Vet Clinic. Kathy did a thorough assessment and said that it was time. So I stayed with Taz as Eddie and Kathy gave him the shot, kept petting his head and said goodbye.
Will Rogers said it best. “If dogs don’t go to heaven, I want to go where they go.”
Gerry And Lynda R.
Oh, look Gerry! Let’s get the one who picked up the stick. And so, Taz entered our lives and our hearts over fourteen years ago.
When we got him home, we were struggling on a good name. Suddenly, he erupted from behind a hassock in a whirlwind of shredded newspaper, our own Tasmanian Devil.
Taz loved to fetch. I would take a Kong on a rope up to the drainfield meadow and throw for him for at least a half hour. I could whip the Kong uphill about 200 feet and Taz would race uphill and be almost at the landing spot when the Kong came down. About every fifth toss, I would snooker him with a false throw. Uphill he would race. Meanwhile, I would quietly toss the Kong left or right at low angle so that it would land before he reached the high point. Taz would stop where he expected the Kong, turn around and look at me. Then I would give him hand signals to direct him close to where it had landed. Within seconds, he would be running back triumphant, drop the Kong at my feet and wait for the next throw. I never saw him tire.
He was an attentive watch dog. Not as fanatical as Ranger (our German Shepherd), but you could count on a couple of loud “Woof’s” if something was going on. But, he was friendly and gentle especially with our friends. And he loved snacks. Whenever Lynda was eating something, Taz was right at her hip, expecting at least one handout. Lynda was a soft touch and Taz always got his reward.
He was very good at catching popcorn. Far better than Dazee. Same with chips. Great eye-mouth coordination.
He got old. Losing his buddy Ranger last Fall was a blow for Taz and for us. During this winter, he loved to go out to the big yard whenever possible. It didn’t matter if it was raining buckets. I would just have the towels ready when he wanted to come back in.
His age showed more and more, but he was doing okay until today. Didn’t want to eat this morning and sort of struggled wandering around the yard. Midday he was almost in a coma. I got him into the car and up to the Haigh Vet Clinic. Kathy did a thorough assessment and said that it was time. So I stayed with Taz as Eddie and Kathy gave him the shot, kept petting his head and said goodbye.
Will Rogers said it best. “If dogs don’t go to heaven, I want to go where they go.”
Gerry And Lynda R.
