As we buried our dog, Tyra, two weeks ago, I told my adult children that I could measure my life in segments by the dogs I had during each time span.  I wondered later what makes losing a dog bring such deep sadness.  Of course, they're not human, and don't we almost feel a little guilty for mourning their loss so obviously? Just to drive the point home, my husband wondered out loud if I would shed as many tears on his passing as I had for Tyra's.

For the next few days, I couldn't help thinking about this question. 

For me, the sadness is based on the loss of a true friend - a special bond with a non-human - a bond that is hard to replicate in our daily lives.

She came to us as a 1 1/2 lb., 8-week old puppy of mixed parentage (most likely Black Lab, Rottweiler and Chow) which we may never really know.  We named her Tyra, meaning Goddess of Battle, which at 8 weeks old, seemed rather funny.  But even when she grew to 90 lbs., she could never claim the meaning of that name.  In fact, she was destined to be the sweetest, most gentle, pushover pup I have ever known.

Upon her arrival at our home our other pound puppy, Cassie, took control of this little one and cared for her just like a mama dog, even though she was only about 6 months old at the time.  Later when Tyra was full grown, we laughed as our 25 lb. Cassie continued the "mothering" of Tyra at 90 lbs.

Her easy nature and good old "hound dog" behavior made her the easiest of our dogs to work with.  On the other hand, the UPS delivery man would never exit his truck with a delivery when Tyra was out.  Had he only known that she presented the LEAST danger to him of all our dogs!

For those who thought Tyra was a little less intelligent than my other pups, they missed the brilliant logic that Tyra possessed.  At the height of our sub-tropical summer, while the other dogs ran around the grounds chasing unknown species or just exercising, Tyra would dig herself a big hole in the sand under her favorite tree and settle in for a cool, relaxing snooze.  Or when it was time for the "goodie treats", once the command "no mas" was made and the other dogs retreated, Tyra would linger, knowing that the big beautiful Black Lab face would make our hearts melt, and we'd give her just one extra goodie! 

She could be funny like when she would go behind the curtains and poke her head out looking like a nun.  That's when she got another name, "Sister Tyra". 

For me, the sadness I felt by  Tyra's death was based on a variety of feelings.  What were they?  She was loyal.  She was always overjoyed to see me - no matter how bad I looked or how tired she was - she always came to me and wagged her tail in appreciation.  She obeyed me in whatever I asked her to do - even bath time was easy with Tyra.  (The others had to be chased down.)

She knew when you were feeling down and would lay her head on your foot, just to let you know she was there for you.  She never fought us in any endeavor - she trusted that whatever we were up to was going to be good for her.

The night before she took sick, she put her head on the ottoman at my feet and just rested her chin there looking at me.  We all remarked about her doing that, since she had never done it before.  Her eyes looked sad.

Whatever happened, did so quickly.  In retrospect, it most likely was a long time coming, but the episode she had was a dramatic turn.  We rushed her to the animal hospital for an all-night stay where they did everything they could to help her recover.  After transfer to her own vet the next day and a return home, it was apparent she wasn't getting better, in fact she was getting worse.  

Ever true to her spirit, Tyra still wagged her tail weakly in appreciation when we soothed her head with gentle hands or whispered her name. After sitting up with my children all night trying to administer pain medication to our whimpering Tyra, we made a decision that we all dreaded. 

A beautiful and peaceful sleep came over Tyra as we held her head and she closed her eyes for the last time.   Yes, we all cried.  I think we cried at the loss of Tyra, but mostly we cried for the loss of Tyra in our lives.  She had been with us for 9 years - this segment of all our lives will always be measured by knowing Tyra.

The tears that were shed were for the passage of our beloved dog, our own life span and the loss of a true friend.  "Man's Best Friend".  Overused?  Not in this case.  She was everything a loyal, loving pet could be!

So yes, out of our love for her, we made a decision to ease her pain.  Do I believe that all dogs go to heaven?  I'm not sure exactly what I truly believe, but I know that Tyra delivered a little bit of heaven right to our home on earth.