The Tazzinator died today. We stumbled through the day, waiting for news, hoping for a recovery, but then the inevitable happened – he just didn’t wake up.

It started last night when we were handing out snacks – the Tazz was nowhere to be found. I eventually found him in the bedroom, having a seizure, immersed in a pool of his own urine. We acted as fast as we could. Called the vet, drove to the practice, spent an excruciating two hours fighting for Tazz’s life. The vet got him stabilised and sent him home – his last night with us. We took him in again this morning for a check-up, and he stayed for observation. Tazz just didn’t wake up.

What do you do when you lose a member of your family? Our dogs are our children. There are reminders everywhere. His favourite spot under my desk, where he would spend hours just watching me work. Or his bed, where he didn’t really sleep (somehow he always ended up on the bed – with all the other dogs and us). His rocking chair next to the couch where I sit in the evenings, where he’d watch Dr Who through half-lidded eyes, nodding off every few minutes.

Tazz was such a brave soul. I found him, lost in the rain on the highway one day seven years ago. He was a bedraggled bundle of mud and aggression. I eventually got him cleaned up. He wolfed down dog food at a rapid rate, and a visit to the vet confirmed that he’d been on the road for a while. His paws showed signs of damage, and his teeth were very decayed. I posted photographs everywhere, hoping to reunite him with his owner, but eventually Tazz just stayed.

In our circle of friends and family, Tazz is remembered for his short temper and his lovable nature. He either loved you or hated you. Tazz didn’t understand grey areas. Many a person has a tale to tell about a bleeding limb after an encounter with Tazz and his razor-sharp remaining teeth. Just as many are honoured to have received a loving lick from his tongue.

Tazz never barked. He was a pomeranian, and usually these brave little dogs are known to be noisy yappers. Our other pomeranian, Sheherezade, certainly does her best to live up to this reputation. He snored very very loudly, and he would make happy little grunting noises when he snuggled in for a closer hug or an ear scratch. Yet, last night I heard his voice for the first time. His swan song was melodious to my ears.

We are richer for having shared our lives with Tazz. He taught me especially about finding love in unexpected places. I never thought that such a little dog could have such a big heart, and make such a huge impact on my life. Thank you Tazz, for your unconditional love. We will meet again at the rainbow bridge.