As is obvious by the name of this site, my wife and I are fools for our dogs. Today, we had to let one of them go. Lyza, our black Tibetan Spaniel (called “tibbies” in the world of fanciers of the breed) was 15. We had to make the tough decision when she began to have worse and worse health problems; it just didn’t make sense to try to keep her around to satisfy our selfish need to keep her with us. Today, we let Lyza go.

Lyza was a special dog. She was a show champion we adopted when she was 8. Black tibbies are a fairly rare version of the breed, and her former owner, a lovely lady who is a breeder/owner/handler, tried and tried to get pups from her, but it was not to be. When I first met Lyza the breeder was seeing if we’d take another dog from her, but it turned out we didn’t do that. We BEGGED for her to let us have Lyza, though. After a few months more, the owner consented and we picked Lyza up and brought her home, at that time in Alaska.

Lyza certainly had one aspect of the breed down pat – she was quite the escape artist, something tibbies are known for. After we’d had her for a year or two she escaped out of our backyard in Anchorage in the dead of winter. Disappeared. We put up signs, I went to the pound to search (which I just can’t stand to do, I’m way to tender hearted to look at those poor doggie souls in their concrete cells) – nothing. After about 6 weeks it was near Valentine’s Day, and Jeri, knowing I was depressed, went with me to a pet store. The resulting Valentine’s Day present is Panda, who we still have.

A week later we got a call from Lyza’s former owner. Lyza had been found, and she had a microchip that put her on the trail back to us. If you have pet, GET THEM CHIPPED. Someone had found her and kept her, and she’d escaped again from them. We finally picked Lyza up from the nice second family who’d found her unharmed. I can’t recall many times, if any others, when I’ve cried with happiness. When Lyza jumped in my lap when we got her back, I cried.

As she got older, like all of us, Lyza got slower and sleepier. She still had an impish streak, coupled with a regal demeanor; she was definitely a princess. Always first to get a treat, and you’d get a hoarse little old lady dog bark scolding if that didn’t happen when required.

Today’s a tough day that I had felt coming for a couple of weeks – months, really, if I was honest with myself. Jeri knew from the last time we went through this that I don’t handle it well, so she took Lyza in to the vet. There was some hope we could try to medicate the problem but in the end, that wasn’t to be. Lyza went peacefully in my sweet wife’s arms. I can’t tell you the love and gratitude I feel to Jeri for doing that for us.

So if you have a pet, pat them on the head today for me and think a little happy thought about Lyza. We’ll miss her so.

Empress Lyza, in her La-z-boy reclining throne, commands, “Bring me bacon, cook-slave!”

Lyza was 14 in November, and is still fine and feisty. Her only complaints are that she’s stone deaf, which isn’t a problem for her, and she has old-age asthma. While her eyes are a little cloudy now, she does not have cataracts, her glowing eyes are just from the camera flash. Lyza is a retired show champion Tibetan Spaniel; we adopted her from the breeder when she couldn’t have puppies.

*Picture is posted per the little-known blog regulation that mandates all blogs post a periodic cat picture. We at Smug Puppies hope that dog pictures are an acceptable alternative. If you don’t like it, Lyza will rip your face off.

Today we went to Petsmart and overspent on our furry family members.

As we were distributing the new fleece dog toys, I noticed what seemed like a plastic tag end sticking out, so I tried to work it out. As I played with it and pushed it out, I found a needle. A sewing needle. Very scary - if a dog had gotten that in its mouth it would have done some damage!

I don’t know if the seamstress sewing squeakers into the plush toys forgot a needle - or some nutjob is sabotaging pet toys by inserting needles. I sure hope it’s not the latter!

We called Petsmart and let them know, but I don’t know if they’ll check their fleece toys or not.

I am still not feeling great; my brain feels like it’s wrapped in cotton wool. So, instead of something insightful and sarcastic, I leave you with this: an LOLdog.

It’s a new concept, one I think will take the Intertubes by storm.

Bryan was thinking about the implications of taking Murphy the Mutt with him to Costco.

Murphy is the most eager, cheerful dog you will ever meet. His whole life is an exercise in enthusiasm; he has a standing vertical leap that is better than 24″. This results in pretty crappy leash behavior. Taking his little 21 lb furry, excited body for a walk is an incredible upper body workout. We have to walk him on a harness, or he’d damage his trachea.

So, disguising Murphy as a service dog would probably not work. Service dogs are supposed to be well behaved on leash, and not pulling your arm out of the socket nor prone to jumping up or barking at new, interesting people.

As Bryan said, “Bad service dog. No blind man for you!”