Tino’s Story:

I was found wandering in and out of traffic on a very busy boulevard. It was Valentines Day, and the people who were to become my parent’s saw that I was scared, and they rescued me from an otherwise certain death.

I think about my parents a lot, and I wanted to write my story so they will know that I am very happy in this heaven place where there is no pain or sadness – only smiles of joy and lots of wagging tails.

My dad was against keeping me at first; he told mom to take me to the pound and drop me off there. Can’t say as I blame him – I was a 6-month old mutt (part Bull Mastiff and Heinz 57), and the last thing anyone wants is a big old dumb dog to feed. Lucky for me, mom knew dad’s soft spot: she told him she wanted to give me to him for a Valentines Day gift. The next thing I recall was dad trying to come up with a name for me. When he decided on “Rudolph Valentino,” I gotta tell ya, it was almost enough to make me wish I was still running loose in the street! Imagine the relief I felt when they nicknamed me Tino.

I went straight from being given a goofy name to going to the vet. Two strikes against me already, and I hardly knew these people who were suddenly making decisions on my behalf. I wasn’t happy about getting poked and prodded and stuck with needles, but if it meant I had a home with these people I put up with the “exam” and didn’t even bar my teeth.

My new home consisted of five acres of property where I could run free without a fence. One could almost describe it as being in heaven, but I quickly learned that I wasn’t the only “pet” in the house, and my so-called “siblings” turned out to be four cats. I mean, like they were “everywhere!!” I couldn’t eat my food but what there wasn’t a cat eyeballing me from somewhere. Why oh why would God put fur balls with claws like razors on this earth!! While it didn’t take me long to learn to keep my distance, I did cherish my food dish and didn’t want them getting near it. They feared me as much as I feared them, and they learned, quickly, to hug the sides of the kitchen walls as they silently crept around me to get to their food in the laundry room. It’s a good thing the kitchen wasn’t any smaller or they woulda starved to death! I think in mom’s eyes I was a big bully, but my dad (since I was “his” dog), felt a little sympathy for what I had to deal with.

I had another “sister” of like species but much tinier. She was a little terrier, kinda cute but not very friendly. She wasn’t too keen on suddenly having a big brother around. She was short and temperamental and would often growl at me if I got close to her. Probably a girly-thing – who knows. Eventually, my position became one of protectiveness with all the members of my family. Even the cats!

It wasn’t long when dad decided he and I were gonna be traveling partners. Something about dad’s “truck” didn’t set well with me, and I got sick that first time out. I upchucked everything I had in my tummy right down between the bucket seats! Dad got the funniest look on his face - I’m not sure how to describe it – dismay, horror? Me – I was too sick to care what he was thinking; I just wanted out of that truck.

I don’t know if the second trip in dad’s truck was wishful thinking, stupidity, or just plain dumb luck. Wouldn’t ya think twice about letting a carsick dog ride in your truck again if there was even the remotest possibility that it would happen again? Well when dad said “c’mon Tino”, being the loving, eager-to-please, companion that I was, I jumped into the front seat of that truck, sitting tall and proud next to my dad as we headed down the road.

My dad was lovingly stroking my head one minute, and the next minute he had my entire stomach contents in his lap. He couldn’t stop that truck fast enough! He practically fell out of the truck and started jumping up and down as though he had a butt full of fire ants. He had nothing in his truck to clean the seat with and had to scoop it out with his hands. I don’t remember much about that trip home – only that I was happy to get out of the truck and on solid ground. If dad was looking for sympathy from mom when he told her what happened, he didn’t get it. If I hadn’t felt so poorly, I would have doubled over with laughter right along with her. Dad never gave up, and eventually I was able to ride with him without getting sick.

My dad was so proud of me – he always enjoyed telling people the story about how I was rescued. He coulda left out the part about naming me Rudolph Valentino, but I just turned my head away and pretended he was talking about another dog he once owned. In reality, I was so happy to have a home and a family who loved me that they could have called me “Whiskers” and I would have lived with it.

We eventually moved out of state – the move itself was an adventure I should never forget. Dad was pulling this huge trailer behind his truck. The trailer is packed full of household furniture, cages full of cats, a bale of straw, a pygmy goat, and just enough room on a built up platform for mom and dad to sleep for one night. We dogs got to ride in the front of the truck but had to stay in the trailer when we stopped for the night. The goat wasn’t housebroken, the cats were not happy, and after two days of traveling it was a relief to have a place to run and play again.

Our new home was near a beach, and we’d go for walks early in the mornings where I could run fast and furious like the wild horses you see in the movies. I would run along chasing the waves and having a good ole time.

I was about three years old when I started having problems with my legs and had to take pills that made me sleep a lot. I wasn’t able to run as fast as I used to, and our morning walks got shorter and shorter. When I’d hear a car drive by out front I’d forget about my pain as I dashed out the pet door, fervently running back and forth along the inside of the fence line chasing whatever drove by. Poor mom, she eventually gave up trying to plant anything along that fence line.

I felt so helpless when my legs could no longer carry the weight of my body. It hurt me to see the painful look in dad’s eyes as he would tenderly pick me up and carry me outside to do my business. I know it saddened him to know there was nothing he could do to make my pain go away.

That last day with my parents was the saddest day of my entire life. They fed me lots of treats while showering me with love and reminiscing about all the fun times we had together. Then it was “that time to go”. It was probably the longest trip they ever made with me in the car - and I didn’t even get sick! Saying good-bye wasn’t easy, but I gotta tell ya – my dad was the bravest man I ever knew. He stayed with me till the very end as I peacefully went from heaven on earth to heaven above. And dawg gone it (sorry, no pun intended), all I gotta say for any man who has never cried is, they never loved, and lost, a beloved four-legged friend!!

This place I reside in now is like nothing anyone could ever imagine in his or her wildest dreams. I’m not suffering, I’m not crippled up, and I can run like I did when I was young and running on the beach chasing those silly waves.

My story ends here, but not without a heartfelt thank you to the loving people who gave me the best 6 years of my life on their heavenly earth.

I love them now as I did then, and remain forever and always,

Their faithful “Rudolph Valentino”