I got a call this week from Daughter #2 about Tiko (pronounced Tee-koe). Tiko is my 11 year old Shetland Sheepdog who went to live with my youngest when I downsized house and yard this last spring. (Misty MacTavish, the border collie, went to live with Daughter #1.) Tiko is the sweetest natured dog, so very mellow and well-behaved, and she’s been happier than ever since going to live with my daughter and her family. Loves the kids and the spoiling she gets.
When she was being groomed last week, the groomer saw that she was bleeding a little and told my daughter that she probably had a urinary infection. But no. It turns out she has cancer. A rather large tumor. She could live quite a while longer, and the treatment will simply be anti-inflammatory meds. Until, of course, the day comes when her pain is such that we must make the tough decision.
So I am sad. Even though I haven’t seen her frequently in the past six months, I still love her. I remember when she chose me to take her home. My granddaughter and I had gone to look at the litter of pups, and she just pushed her way into my arms and that was it. (Her birthday is June 10, which she shares with Queen Elizabeth.) She grew extra large for a sheltie. Most people think she is a small collie. She was never formally trained, just picked everything up by observing Misty and listening to her owners.
Sure, I know that for a large dog (50+ pounds) who has a thyroid condition, eleven-plus years isn’t really young. But it isn’t really old either. So I hope she will surprise us all and do well in the months to come.
I think God gives us pets to love and to love us just because it gives both Him and us pleasure. There are so many wonderful things on this earth, even in its fallen condition, that shows His joy in creating things of beauty. Tiko is one of those beautiful things, and I’m thankful she lived with me for 11 years and hope she can live with my daughter and family more years than we expect.