I set up my new lap top on the dining room table so I could look out the picture window when I write. The sun is shining just right, and I can still see her nosey smudge marks on the glass.
You’ve probably noticed a pattern; I experience a life crisis – get a boxer. By 2014, both Buster and Tyson were gone, my Father had passed away and my Mother was seriously ill. Shaylea and I became best buds and I don’t think she missed those other boxers at all. That summer, my niece Tawny moved in with me, my long-term boyfriend moved to France, and Shaylea passed away suddenly from a bleeding tumor. Too much life change at once. I was a basket case. Tawny hinted at getting a cat, but told me what I really needed was another boxer.
I went to meet “Tia” at a Lone Star Boxer Rescue “Meet and Greet.” Being a boxer, she had intuitive skills. I had a broken foot, was sad, tired and generally felt like crap. I’m surprised they approved me for adoption. Tia immediately came over, put her right paw on my left shoulder and gave me a big slurpy kiss. She rescued me.
Tia had severe allergies, such that her current family could no longer afford treatments. Otherwise, she was a highly socialized, well-behaved 6-year-old boxer who could beat you in a staring contest, slept with her tongue hanging out, and posed for photos:
Tia was a hit with my family and neighbors. Tawny, who also calls me Tia (Aunt in Spanish), laughed whenever she called Tia and we both responded. This resulted in additional nick names for the boxer – Tortilla and Tia Maria – when a distinction was required. Tia responded to all of them, even the odd “Tia Burger” bestowed by my brother. Tia loved her walks and visiting my Mom’s assisted living facility. She was a big hit.
By the following year, Tawny had moved to New York, Mom ended up in hospice care and Tia continued to be my loyal companion and guardian. Friend at the door = one bark. Amazon driver = two barks. Drunken 21 year olds celebrating after having Uber drop them off at the wrong house = non stop barking. She was also “slobber-free’, except for the times she pressed her nose against the dining room window to watch squirrels getting into the “squirrel proof” bird feeder.
Tia has been gone for 6 weeks. She died from hemangiosarcoma. You can Google that. I’ll just say that its vicious cancer. She lived twice as long has her diagnosis predicted, but not long enough. I only had her 3-1/2 years, but long enough to know she was the best boxer ever. Not to be topped. Not to be replaced. However, I’m a better person as a pet owner. As I clean off the windows, I notice my new cat also likes to watch the squirrels.
Note: The painted portrait of Tia in the collage above was done by Leiann Klein of Weston, FL.
8 thoughts on “Boxer Tales Part 4 – Tia”
Oh my goodness, I have tears. Maybe so much more because I knew Tia too and I miss her greeting me at the door…Sending you a big hug.
Thanks, hard one to write. I appreciate you so much.
My heart still aches for you and her. She loved you as much as you love her. I consider myself so lucky to have had her in my life on the few visits and that I was there at the end. Tears fill my eyes as I write this. Love is pouring towards you…and watch those new kids….they’ll steal your heart too!
Thanks for all your emotional support. It made a big difference. And those cats? They are well on their way!
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What a wonderful, sweet, happy, sad story! I can’t imagine what that day will be like when my “Boys” are no longer here! 😢
Is this you, Steve Saunders? Thanks for the compliment.
My heart breaks for you. I know the pain on loosing a loved fur baby, but she will be forever in your heart. The cats will help for a little bit. Sit back and let them snuggle with your.
Thank you Marsha. The cats are wonderful.