My Tinkerbell…

Tinker, Rock Steady and Be-Bop

 My last post got me depressed about my baby.  Not my human babies, my real  first baby.  I miss my Tinkerbell.

It reminds me that we have a real treasure in Stella and I need to be better to her.  Stella’s a great dog, very obedient and in many ways, she’s much better behaved (and house trained)!  But it’s still a hard, hard thing to miss Tinker.  As hard as it was to have a miscarriage, I think it was a much harder thing to lose that dog.  Won’t make sense to a lot of people, but it’s the truth.

The picture above was taken the day before Tinkerbell died, on May 31, 2008.  Rock Steady was a newborn. 

Tinkerbell was a special dog.  We got her when she was six weeks old and I was working part-time.  J and I were engaged.  I had a playpen to keep her in and she bobbled and weaved around.  I will never forget the first time we took her to the vet; she weighed 1.2 pounds and the vet said he didn’t know how much bigger she would get or how long she would live.  She didn’t strike him as being particularly healthy at that age.  I guess maybe I should have listened closer then.

But she grew  from that little bitty alien-looking dog with a head as big as her body to a healthy, trim, little pug.  She was my constant companion from February of 2005 to April of 2008, when I was no longer to care for her due to bedrest with Rock Steady.  She spent her last weeks with Grandma, who spoiled her rotten and who, I think, was as heartbroken as me when Tinker got sick.

But for three glorious years, Tinker-B was my baby and she will always be my FIRST baby. 

Tinkerbell Mother's Day 2007

 She was a good one.

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