“The TAZ-manine Devil”

Around five years ago – coming quickly onto six – way back in 2009 – my grandma passed away. To date I haven’t posted that much about her; because she was so important to me and I loved her so very much. To be perfectly honest, I am never quite satisfied with what I end up writing about her because I can’t seem to capture her greatness enough to share with the public. But just take my word for it, my grandma was and always will be the biggest super hero and influence in my life.

So, as you can probably guess, her death hit me like a tidal-wave. I experienced more pain and darkness after her death then I ever have in my life – probably because my biggest source of sunshine was robbed from me at such a brutally young age.

For this post to make sense what you need to know is my grandma was basically my mom growing up. I did everything with her: from my first laugh, to our weekly sleepovers on Friday and Saturday nights, and my grade 8 graduation, and then about everything else in between.

Obviously once she passed my family was extra concerned for me. Don’t get me wrong, her death effected everyone majorly, but I didn’t just loose my grandma that day; I lost my very best-friend, and my other mom. Now you have to understand that I was 13 and although I was grieving and broken, I also knew that I could probably get anything that I wanted, and that is where Taz comes into the story.

I found Taz on the local SPCA website. She was small, golden, and so ugly that she was ridiculously cute (a trait that has grown with her I might add). Somehow, with all the luck in the world, I convinced my mom to take me to go see her that night. And the next thing I knew it, the little coyote looking dog was mine… on one condition. First she had to meet Bosco: my 130lb borebell mastiff.

That is the first time I realized I was buying a little hellion. That 10lb little dog tore around the room, bouncing, biting, and taunting Bosco. Needless to say, my big dog was never going to be a problem in that relationship and Taz came home with us that night.

She served her purpose. She got me through many tearful nights and painful days. She always cuddles with me during afternoon naps and she only runs away sometimes.
However I think that little dog is worse then a child would be. Which really brings us to the start of this story – after a very long but insightful introduction.

Recently Taz has taught herself two new “tricks”

1. She likes to tear apart door frames, whenever she is left alone in the house. And by tear apart I mean completely and utterly destroy them to the point where we are going to have to replace them before ever moving. I’m not even sure how she manages to destroy as much as she does, I mean she’s not very big, but there are claw marks as high as my hip. So yes it is a very pricey and naughty trick – but it is also a little impressive. I am pretty convinced she could put a beaver to shame.

And now for her newest and most frustrating trick yet:

2. Taz has decided that she is going to wake me up every single hour on the dot throughout the night. I kid you not. Every single hour for the last two nights she has done one of three things:
1. Practiced her singing
2. Trained for a marathon on my hardwood floor
(and if one and two failed her then she resorted to the last and most promising method)
3. Jumping on-top of me repeatedly till I acknowledge her.

Sounds like fun doesn’t it? Besides who really needs sleep? It’s obvious here that she holds all of the power in our relationship and I don’t stand a chance against her puppy-dog eyes.

So now I write to you, at 8 a.m. this morning, after only four hours of sleep, to tell you about my dog that has truly earned her title: “The TAZ-manine Devil”. I think I have entered “zombie mode” considering this is day 2 of her newest behavior and I can only hope that by tonight she will be just as exhausted as me and sleep through the night – however this is unlikely because she is probably sleeping now while I go and earn my pay cheque.

But how could I ever be mad over a little lost sleep when my sweet little princess saved me when I was at my absolute lowest?

Dog’s truly are a (wo)man’s best-friend. And I wouldn’t trade any annoying habits, bad behaviour, or sleepless nights for anything because I will never be able to repay my dog for everything she does for me.


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