On Sunday, March 11, 2001, my best friend Tammy passed away. She had been suffering from a severe case of pancreatitis and was not responding to medication (steroids and antibiotics). Tammy had been having re-occurring cases of pancreatitis for approximately a year. They had become more frequent and more severe each time. We were not able to determine what the cause was. Tammy had been on a strict diet consisting of Purina CNF EN prescription dog food.

Making the decision to put Tammy to rest was the hardest thing I have ever done. She was by best friend; my soul-mate in four-legged form. I had surgery on 01/30/01, to have a goiter removed from my thyroid. During my recovery, Tammy laid next to me on the couch with her head on my lap. I thoroughly enjoyed this time alone with her. It was determined a week later that I had cancer and would need a second surgery. I had surgery on 03/06/01, for a total thyroid removal. This was a difficult time for me; waiting for the biopsy results which would deterine whether I needed further treatment (chemotherapy, radiation). Having Tammy snuggled up next to me made the wait more bearable.

Two days before my second surgery (Sunday, 03/04/01), Tammy had developed a severe case of pancreatitis and her health deteriorated quickly. She was hospitalized for 36 hours and released just prior to my surgery. The vet was not optimistic since Tammy's lipase levels were extremely high. When I came home from the hospital on Wednesday, 03/07/01, Tammy seemed to be doing much better. She had really perked-up and was very excited to see me. We spent the whole day lounging on the couch together. The next day (Thursday, 03/08/01), I received my pathology report; the cancer had been contained in the thyroid and I was officially pronounced cancer-free. It seemed that within hours of receiving this information, Tammy went downhill. I called the vet, and he prescribed steroids to relieve the inflammation so Tammy could keep some of her food down and possibly get her strength back - but he did not sound too hopeful. The recurring, continued sickness had taken a toll on her. Tammy had lost weight and was in a weakened state.

On Friday, I took Tammy on an outing – I knew this would probably be our last so I made it very special. I called my friend Angela and invited her and Whiskey (her terrier mix) to go to PetsMart with us. Tammy got very excited when I said "Want to go for a ride?" One of Tammy's favorite past-times was riding in my van. She would sit in the seat behind me and stick her nose out the window. I would look in the side-view mirror and see her snout; it always made me laugh because she looked so darned cute. We drove over to PetsMart and Tammy picked out a couple of new toys. She really enjoyed our little trip and her visit with Whiskey.

By Friday night, my husband Jim was sleeping out in the living room, so Tammy could sleep in the bed with me. I wanted to spend every minute with her. Although she was very weak, she still managed to follow me wherever I went.

By Sunday, March 11, Tammy was not able to stand up. She was in an extremely weakened state. I brought her to the After Hours Emergency Clinic. The vet ran extensive blood tests to see if there was anything else they could do for Tammy. Tammy had developed other complications, including possibly cancer of the pancreas and stomach. Tammy would probably not survive another night. Her eyes were so sad, they seemed to be saying "Help me." I loved her and could not see her suffer any more. I sat in the private waiting room and cried and cried, knowing what I had to do. When they brought Tammy in to me, I just stroked her and spoke softly to her, savoring the feel of her soft fur and looking in her liquid brown eyes that shown with love. I held her and soothed her as they put her to sleep. The last words she heard from me before taking her last breath were "I love you, you're such a good girl." Although this did not even begin to describe how I felt about her, I know she understood how deeply I loved her. Words were not necessary for us to communicate. Tammy could read my thoughts.

I cried for a week, at least a dozen times a day. I was inconsolable and could not get myself together. As part of my self-therapy, I ordered a personalized granite marker, installed a white picket fence, and planted flower bulbs (daffodils and tulips) around Tammy's grave. Although I knew Tammy's body was buried in her grave, her spirit is buried in my heart forever. (Borrowed from Collie Rescue of the Carolinas)

I went through all my photo albums and pulled out every picture ever taken of Tammy. I had copies made of each photo, and enlarged many of my favorites and placed them in frames throughout the house. I put the copies of snapshots in a photo album devoted entirely to Tammy, with information about her. Putting Tammy's story in writing has helped me recover from my deep sadness.

I almost collapsed with grief the first time I came into the house and was not greeted by my best friend. Every time I walked down the hallway, I automatically looked for Tammy laying on my bed. It's so hard not to look for her. The house is so empty and sad without her.

These are the things I miss most about Tammy:

Big smile - she was always smiling

Tail thumping - it started wagging as soon as she heard or saw me

Tickling sessions - she would jump on me and kiss my neck, face and ears. The more I laughed, the more she'd kiss me

Rubbing her belly - that always made her happy

Stroking her ears - nothing on earth was as soft as her velvety ears

Snuggling - she would jump in bed and snuggle with me as soon as Jim got out of bed in the morning

Outings - she loved to ride in my van (any destination)

Talking - she would whine, whimper, or bark at me when I asked her questions

Thieving - she would steal loaves of bread and food off the kitchen counter. Sometimes she would eat them, and other times she would just play with them.

Miss Comedian - she knew when I had a bad day and could sense it when I came home from work. Tammy would lay on her back with her paws sticking straight up in the air. Then she would "woof" and squirm and wiggle - it was the funniest thing I ever saw and would always make me laugh hysterically. Daniel called this "Tammy's Ballet" because it looked like she was dancing upside down.

Silly nicknames we called Tammy:

Tammy Lou

Tam-Tam

Poochie-potomaus

Puppy-girl

Baby-girl

Lovie-love

Foo-foo dog

My youngest son Daniel (8 yrs old at the time) was also very upset about the loss of Tammy. His appetite decreased, he became withdrawn, and was crying several times a day. We became very concerned a week later when this was still continuing. Although I insisted I was not ready for another pet, my husband decided we should take a trip to the Wake County Animal Shelter just to "take a look."

We interviewed several dogs, or should I say they interviewed us. My husband Jim found a very large, sweet, young, healthy, neutered, golden retriever/german sheperd mix who was just begging to be adopted. He wagged his tail so hard it made his whole backside wiggle. Our daughter Sarah (6 yrs old at the time) was with us. She hugged and petted the dog, and he loved the attention. When we inquired about this dog, we were told he had been at the shelter for five months and would probably be put down soon. This finalized our decision; we were getting a new pet; Max (click on his name to see pictures). I called the vet and got Max an appointment that same afternoon to have his shots brought up-to-date and get him started on heartworm prevention. He was also bathed and groomed. Doctor Jon (our vet) told us we had made a great choice - Max was a sweet boy. Max was pronouced healthy and it was determined that he was less than a year old.

When my son Daniel got home from school, Max was at the vet for his appointment. Daniel rode with me to get Max. He was so excited he could not stop talking and asking questions. Daniel's eyes lit up when he saw Max, and vice versa - what a great match! Max showered Daniel with doggie kisses and they became instant friends! This was the best medicine for my heartbroken son. Max will never replace Tammy, but he sure brightens up our home with his presence.

Max is very different from Tammy, which is great; that way I won't keep comparing them. He's the first male dog I've ever had, and also the first long-haired dog. Max was very hyper and loved to chew anything and everything at first, but he has become well-mannered in his adult years.

On August 4, 2001, we adopted Lucky. She is a beautiful black lab/doberman mix, 7-8 year old, spayed female. We felt that Max needed a companion - and Lucky (click on her name to see her picture and story) fit the bill!

I would like to mention a word about our vet, Doctor Jon Dick of Magnolia Animal Hospital. Doctor Jon and the staff of Magnolia Animal Hospital were wonderful! They are a very compassionate group of individuals. Doctor Jon called me the morning after Tammy died to let me know how sorry he was and to say that he would've liked to have been with me to say good-bye to his dear friend. He and his staff sent me a beautiful sympathy card. Doctor Jon and each member of the staff wrote a personal note to me regarding how much they thought of Tammy. They also enclosed the "Rainbow Bridge" poem. Later, I received a letter from the SPCA informing me that Doctor Jon and his staff had made a generous donation in memory of Tammy. Obviously, I cannot say enough about these caring people!

Everyone always told me I spoiled Tammy too much and treated her like a human. In retrospect, I'm so glad I did! I only had five years with her, and I don't have any regrets about the way I treated her. She made me very happy and in return, I did my best to make her happy.