# I miss you, Taz



## Nicquita

I don't know why I write these, but I think that it may be my version of closure. I'm not sure how quickly I'll be able to get closure this time, but I think it's fair to say that it's going to hurt for a long while. 

Unfortunately, this time, I lost more than a pet. I've lost my baby, the only close by family member that I had. I apologise for the long, picture filled and pretty depressing post, but I suppose that's to be expected in the section of the forum dedicated to remembering the loved ones that we lose.

Taz is my dog. He was a beautiful little old man, who went by many names. Taz, the Fiend, Isaiah P Q Furryhousen... But to me, he was the Fluffkin. He was 14 years old.










I had a bad time in my home town. My friends went to university, my family had 'issues', and my housemates were psychotic. After losing my job because I was hit by a car, I became homeless, and made the impromptu decision to move 100 miles away from everything that I've ever known to live with a man I'd known for only a few months. Two years later, that seems to have been the best decision that I've ever made. 

Within a few months of moving to Hull, we had a house, and soon adopted a dog. We'd been looking for furniture on gumtree, and came across an *urgent* rehoming ad. Taz was 12, and his owner had terminal cancer. My poor little fiend had been sitting in a kennel for two months because he was so old nobody wanted him. We were more than happy to have him. He was a big ginger ball of love, and fit in with my big ginger ball of a boyfriend very well. Taz became the first member of the only family that I've ever felt completely at home with. He was already old, but was really lively and loving, 'clackety'ing around our hardwood floors, and wagging whenever he saw either of us. Our stairs are steep, and he's never been much good at climbing them, but he pretty much ruled downstairs. He's completely wrecked our sofa bed, along with our garden. When Taz first moved in, he had a sore neck, presumably from being tied up with his collar. I took the collar off to give it a chance to heal, and instead, we put a bandana on him. It was just to see if it looked cute, and I'd had no intention of leaving it on, but Taz seemed to like it. Whenever he knocked it off scratching, he'd bring it back to us to put it back on. Chris had wanted a dog in the first place, but I think it was the bandana that really made me fall in love with Taz. He had little personality quirks that shone through, despite him constantly tripping me up and crying at me whenever I had food that he wanted. I still insist he wouldn't have done that if Chris didn't always feed him under the table -_-










2012 was probably one of the best years of my life, and it was wonderful having Taz, my first ever dog that I could call my own. But as 2013 went on, he got a bit arthritic, and I was terrified of him going for walks that were too long. Instead, we took him on short walks to shops and a nearby park, and we'd sit on the little hill and let Taz walk around off his leash while we ate a picnic. Unfortunately, he was so damned cute, all we ever really got to eat were sandwich crust. I think the one time I ate my entire sandwich, we ended up having to chase Taz all over the park. After that, it became routine to keep him close by with the temptation of food. All in all, he was a furry fiend, and maybe an evil genius, hell bent on taking the world's sandwiches. Everything was great for a while  My cat came to live with us, and I finished my first year of uni, with Chris finishing his second. The summer was excellent, Taz constantly trying to stay by us, wagging his tail and crying whenever we went out even to a shop.










Eventually, the wagging stopped. Taz couldn't see us very well anymore. He had cataracts, and we'll never know quite how bad it was, but he certainly couldn't tell who we were until we spoke to him. As soon as we spoke though, he was always ecstatic. He'd be up as soon as he heard the front door, and seemed so excited to see us, all of the time. Especially Chris. I don't think Chris could have loved Taz any more than he did. He was the centre of our home life. But Chris is a language student, and his third year needs to be spent abroad. He packed up his things and off he went to Madrid. Taz used to sleep by the door, waiting for him to get back, and nothing I did seemed to cheer him up. His hearing had started going, and he could only ever hear Chris on Skype if he whistled to him. He slept by the door waiting for him to come home for three weeks, crying whenever the wind blew the letter box. After a while, I decided he couldn't go on like that, and managed to coax Taz into sleeping on the expensive heated memory foam bed that we'd bought for him because I couldn't imagine the hardwood floor being good for his arthritis. The only way he'd go to his bed was if I was sitting by it. This led to five days of me sleeping in a quilt on a hardwood floor with my Fluffkin. He seemed to perk up for a while after that.










It was all downhill from there, though. Every now and again, Taz would fall over. Tablets and heated beds and special foods didn't do much for him anymore. He'd fall down and have difficulty getting back up, he stopped climbing on the sofa, because he couldn't, and he started having 'accidents'. Chris, being in Spain, insisted he was fine and that it couldn't be as bad as I thought that it was. Our family dog was put to sleep at 14, and that made me paranoid and hypersensitive to any change in Taz's behaviour. To an extent, I agreed with Chris. In hindsight, I think that that was wishful thinking. Chris came home in December for the holidays, and finally got to see Taz firsthand. Taz was falling over a lot, and over the last month or so, his hearing seemed to have completely gone. He could hear a few high pitched noises, but no amount of comforting words and soft voices could make him feel better about his situation. Whenever he made a mess, he seemed afraid, presumably because he knew he wasn't allowed. We couldn't tell him otherwise, and all we could do was stroke him. Four days before Christmas, we made the hardest decision I've ever had to make. We kept hoping for a miraculous recovery, and whenever he seemed a bit brighter and happier, we told ourselves he was fine. But reality hit home one day when he stood and cried for 15 minutes before finally struggling to lie himself down. Eventually, he just kind of dropped himself sideways.

We booked Taz an appointment for after the new year when the vet's reopened, and set up camp in the living room with Taz. We moved the mattress downstairs onto the sofa bed, set up the TV, relocated his bowls closer to his bed so he wouldn't have to walk as far. Chris' brother and Taz's 'babysitter' came to visit him, bearing gifts of sausages and such. I've never experienced something so morbid and equally touching. We spent our first Christmas in our house waiting for our dog to die. We usually spend Christmas with our families, but as Taz is so old, we wanted to spend it with him, in case it was his last. I'm so glad that we did. We had no idea that it would be so soon. 










Taz spent his last two weeks being spoilt rotten. He had the biggest Christmas dinner, hugs every day, and entire shoulder if lamb on New Year's Day, and I discovered that he loves Jaffa cakes. I spent the whole week hoping that those things would be enough to show him how much he meant to us. On January 3rd, Taz went to the vets. He was such a good boy, and contrary to my wishful thinking, no miracle cure was offered, and we were told that we were doing the best thing for our little old boy. The only animal I've ever seen be put to sleep was a guinea pig, and I didn't know what to expect. Taz just stood there, and he stared at Chris. I tried so hard not to cry, because I didn't want to frighten him. But he hadn't looked straight at anything for months, and he was just staring at Chris. Then he went to sleep. I thought that that was a literal thing, that he'd fall asleep, and his eyes would close. They didn't close, they just faded. The vet listened with the stethoscope and then poked his eye, and I think that was when I really broke. Then they left us alone with our dog, who was 'sleeping' now, and staring straight at the cupboard in front of him. It looked so wrong. Taz had folded ears, but they were standing straight up, and he was staring at the cupboards in front of him. I don't think I'll ever forget what he looked like then. 

So now I'm alone with my cat and my gecko. Chris is back in Spain. I have issues with depression and suddenly it feels like my reason to get up in the morning is gone. I have a huge amount of difficulty with getting out of bed in the morning, but when Taz was around, I was up at 5.30 every day to let him out and to sit with him for a bit. I know very few people in Hull, and not really anybody that would aspire to spend any time with me. So I'm having a lot of difficulty processing losing Taz. He was the company that I had here, and one of the few things that made it feel like home. I'm saddened by the fact that a majority of this is insanely unhappy, and to do with Taz being ill, but to be completely honest, they're the memories that I have at the moment. I hope that they won't always be. But for now, I can't find any happiness in having lost my dog, and I'm really hoping that writing and posting this will help me get past that, so that I can remember the few years of absolute awesomeness that was Taz - the way that he deserves to be remembered





































So this is my way of saying goodbye to my gorgeous Fluffkin, and my way of getting past the bad so that I can start to appreciate all of the good things about him again. I miss him.


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## AubreyGecko

I want to give you a cuddle!
That is one of the loveliest but saddest things I've heard in the longest time!!
He sounds like a wonderful doggie): 
R.I.P. taz <3


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## Nicquita

Thank you  I could do with a hug. I won't say he was the best dog ever, because he wasn't, he was awfully trained  completely abysmal. But her was the best dog ever for me


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## AubreyGecko

Nicquita said:


> Thank you  I could do with a hug. I won't say he was the best dog ever, because he wasn't, he was awfully trained  completely abysmal. But her was the best dog ever for me


If I'm ever in hull ill hunt you down ad hug you 
It's always awful when a pet gets put down, worse when they are close to you, unbearable when they are your best friend. I miss my little cindy dog crazy amounts 12 years on!! I really feel for you!!


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## Rosiemum

Nicquita, I'm so sorry. 

That was a beautiful eulogy to one of your best friends. I think it's terrific that you arranged everything so he could have a last Christmas with you, and that even though it hurt you so much, you were able to make the right decision for him in the end. 

I'm with Aubrey - if I'm ever anywhere near Hull, I will hunt you down and give you a hug, for Taz and for Daisy. But for now, have a cyber (((hug))), and feel free to pm me if it will help.


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## OldAndStillLearning

Such a touching post. The love you felt for an oldie shines through and he will have felt loved a lifetime for everyday spent with you. 
I'm so sorry for your loss, but be sure that he's at the rainbow bridge free from aches and pain.


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## EVIEMAY

So sorry xx Sleep tight gorgeous boy


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## VineCoreReptiles

Holy moly... Touching story, made me cry... Sorry for your loss bud


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## SilverSky

i just wanted to say well done to you for giving an old dog a chance to live the last part of his life loved and pampered. 
old dogs are often overlooked in rescues, he could easily have lived in kennels until his end, but instead he found friends, a family, and the love that he truly deserved, you should feel so proud.


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## Jb1432

Nicquita said:


> I don't know why I write these, but I think that it may be my version of closure. I'm not sure how quickly I'll be able to get closure this time, but I think it's fair to say that it's going to hurt for a long while.
> 
> Unfortunately, this time, I lost more than a pet. I've lost my baby, the only close by family member that I had. I apologise for the long, picture filled and pretty depressing post, but I suppose that's to be expected in the section of the forum dedicated to remembering the loved ones that we lose.
> 
> Taz is my dog. He was a beautiful little old man, who went by many names. Taz, the Fiend, Isaiah P Q Furryhousen... But to me, he was the Fluffkin. He was 14 years old.
> 
> image
> 
> I had a bad time in my home town. My friends went to university, my family had 'issues', and my housemates were psychotic. After losing my job because I was hit by a car, I became homeless, and made the impromptu decision to move 100 miles away from everything that I've ever known to live with a man I'd known for only a few months. Two years later, that seems to have been the best decision that I've ever made.
> 
> Within a few months of moving to Hull, we had a house, and soon adopted a dog. We'd been looking for furniture on gumtree, and came across an *urgent* rehoming ad. Taz was 12, and his owner had terminal cancer. My poor little fiend had been sitting in a kennel for two months because he was so old nobody wanted him. We were more than happy to have him. He was a big ginger ball of love, and fit in with my big ginger ball of a boyfriend very well. Taz became the first member of the only family that I've ever felt completely at home with. He was already old, but was really lively and loving, 'clackety'ing around our hardwood floors, and wagging whenever he saw either of us. Our stairs are steep, and he's never been much good at climbing them, but he pretty much ruled downstairs. He's completely wrecked our sofa bed, along with our garden. When Taz first moved in, he had a sore neck, presumably from being tied up with his collar. I took the collar off to give it a chance to heal, and instead, we put a bandana on him. It was just to see if it looked cute, and I'd had no intention of leaving it on, but Taz seemed to like it. Whenever he knocked it off scratching, he'd bring it back to us to put it back on. Chris had wanted a dog in the first place, but I think it was the bandana that really made me fall in love with Taz. He had little personality quirks that shone through, despite him constantly tripping me up and crying at me whenever I had food that he wanted. I still insist he wouldn't have done that if Chris didn't always feed him under the table -_-
> 
> image
> 
> 2012 was probably one of the best years of my life, and it was wonderful having Taz, my first ever dog that I could call my own. But as 2013 went on, he got a bit arthritic, and I was terrified of him going for walks that were too long. Instead, we took him on short walks to shops and a nearby park, and we'd sit on the little hill and let Taz walk around off his leash while we ate a picnic. Unfortunately, he was so damned cute, all we ever really got to eat were sandwich crust. I think the one time I ate my entire sandwich, we ended up having to chase Taz all over the park. After that, it became routine to keep him close by with the temptation of food. All in all, he was a furry fiend, and maybe an evil genius, hell bent on taking the world's sandwiches. Everything was great for a while  My cat came to live with us, and I finished my first year of uni, with Chris finishing his second. The summer was excellent, Taz constantly trying to stay by us, wagging his tail and crying whenever we went out even to a shop.
> 
> image
> 
> Eventually, the wagging stopped. Taz couldn't see us very well anymore. He had cataracts, and we'll never know quite how bad it was, but he certainly couldn't tell who we were until we spoke to him. As soon as we spoke though, he was always ecstatic. He'd be up as soon as he heard the front door, and seemed so excited to see us, all of the time. Especially Chris. I don't think Chris could have loved Taz any more than he did. He was the centre of our home life. But Chris is a language student, and his third year needs to be spent abroad. He packed up his things and off he went to Madrid. Taz used to sleep by the door, waiting for him to get back, and nothing I did seemed to cheer him up. His hearing had started going, and he could only ever hear Chris on Skype if he whistled to him. He slept by the door waiting for him to come home for three weeks, crying whenever the wind blew the letter box. After a while, I decided he couldn't go on like that, and managed to coax Taz into sleeping on the expensive heated memory foam bed that we'd bought for him because I couldn't imagine the hardwood floor being good for his arthritis. The only way he'd go to his bed was if I was sitting by it. This led to five days of me sleeping in a quilt on a hardwood floor with my Fluffkin. He seemed to perk up for a while after that.
> 
> image
> 
> It was all downhill from there, though. Every now and again, Taz would fall over. Tablets and heated beds and special foods didn't do much for him anymore. He'd fall down and have difficulty getting back up, he stopped climbing on the sofa, because he couldn't, and he started having 'accidents'. Chris, being in Spain, insisted he was fine and that it couldn't be as bad as I thought that it was. Our family dog was put to sleep at 14, and that made me paranoid and hypersensitive to any change in Taz's behaviour. To an extent, I agreed with Chris. In hindsight, I think that that was wishful thinking. Chris came home in December for the holidays, and finally got to see Taz firsthand. Taz was falling over a lot, and over the last month or so, his hearing seemed to have completely gone. He could hear a few high pitched noises, but no amount of comforting words and soft voices could make him feel better about his situation. Whenever he made a mess, he seemed afraid, presumably because he knew he wasn't allowed. We couldn't tell him otherwise, and all we could do was stroke him. Four days before Christmas, we made the hardest decision I've ever had to make. We kept hoping for a miraculous recovery, and whenever he seemed a bit brighter and happier, we told ourselves he was fine. But reality hit home one day when he stood and cried for 15 minutes before finally struggling to lie himself down. Eventually, he just kind of dropped himself sideways.
> 
> We booked Taz an appointment for after the new year when the vet's reopened, and set up camp in the living room with Taz. We moved the mattress downstairs onto the sofa bed, set up the TV, relocated his bowls closer to his bed so he wouldn't have to walk as far. Chris' brother and Taz's 'babysitter' came to visit him, bearing gifts of sausages and such. I've never experienced something so morbid and equally touching. We spent our first Christmas in our house waiting for our dog to die. We usually spend Christmas with our families, but as Taz is so old, we wanted to spend it with him, in case it was his last. I'm so glad that we did. We had no idea that it would be so soon.
> 
> image
> 
> Taz spent his last two weeks being spoilt rotten. He had the biggest Christmas dinner, hugs every day, and entire shoulder if lamb on New Year's Day, and I discovered that he loves Jaffa cakes. I spent the whole week hoping that those things would be enough to show him how much he meant to us. On January 3rd, Taz went to the vets. He was such a good boy, and contrary to my wishful thinking, no miracle cure was offered, and we were told that we were doing the best thing for our little old boy. The only animal I've ever seen be put to sleep was a guinea pig, and I didn't know what to expect. Taz just stood there, and he stared at Chris. I tried so hard not to cry, because I didn't want to frighten him. But he hadn't looked straight at anything for months, and he was just staring at Chris. Then he went to sleep. I thought that that was a literal thing, that he'd fall asleep, and his eyes would close. They didn't close, they just faded. The vet listened with the stethoscope and then poked his eye, and I think that was when I really broke. Then they left us alone with our dog, who was 'sleeping' now, and staring straight at the cupboard in front of him. It looked so wrong. Taz had folded ears, but they were standing straight up, and he was staring at the cupboards in front of him. I don't think I'll ever forget what he looked like then.
> 
> So now I'm alone with my cat and my gecko. Chris is back in Spain. I have issues with depression and suddenly it feels like my reason to get up in the morning is gone. I have a huge amount of difficulty with getting out of bed in the morning, but when Taz was around, I was up at 5.30 every day to let him out and to sit with him for a bit. I know very few people in Hull, and not really anybody that would aspire to spend any time with me. So I'm having a lot of difficulty processing losing Taz. He was the company that I had here, and one of the few things that made it feel like home. I'm saddened by the fact that a majority of this is insanely unhappy, and to do with Taz being ill, but to be completely honest, they're the memories that I have at the moment. I hope that they won't always be. But for now, I can't find any happiness in having lost my dog, and I'm really hoping that writing and posting this will help me get past that, so that I can remember the few years of absolute awesomeness that was Taz - the way that he deserves to be remembered
> 
> image
> 
> image
> 
> image
> 
> image
> 
> So this is my way of saying goodbye to my gorgeous Fluffkin, and my way of getting past the bad so that I can start to appreciate all of the good things about him again. I miss him.


R.I.P Taz 

You did such a wonderful thing and should feel proud. I read your story and as a dog owner myself, it made me sad but I also saw the positive sides of it so thank you


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## micky0

So sorry for your sad loss. He was very lucky to spend his last years with you and have the love some dogs never get. He was soo cute , love the pics! I hope your pain eases soon, it does take time. Animals touch our hearts sometimes more than any person can, this I know all too well.


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## bonesy

:sad: Omg this is the saddest story. I hope you get the closure your searching for, for some people pets are just that pets but for others pets are family and when we lose them its like losing a family member. You gave Taz the love and the home the little beauty deserved and in turn he gave you all his love i hope you find some peace soon and the memories of Taz brings you comfort hugs and best wishes xx


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## PigeonYouDead

:grouphug:

There is literally nothing worse than having to make the decision; I really feel for you. The only vague consolation to it is that you've done it with his best interests at heart and at least he's not suffering anymore. My bf's dog passed away in Feb at 15 and a half, and his family were devastated. I've just moved to Yorkshire (near Leeds) to live with my fella, and don't really know anyone, my dog is like my best buddy, so I know how you feel. Just give yourself some time to heal, it will get better. RIP little Taz.


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## AmieLouiseThomas

Nawh, R.I.P Taz.
He sounded like an amazing dog. You was such a good mother to him and your boyfriend was a great father to your dog. I know how it feels to make the hard decision but you did so much for Taz. 
Hope you will get though this, its hard but I think you can do it you seem to be a strong woman. 
Many Wishes for you and your boyfriend and your beautiful Taz. 

*hug*


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