...and now there are two...

I didn't want to write this. Ever. But it was inevitable; as with everything in life, change is the only constant. My heart is broken. You'd think you'd get used to it. 

Thankfully, you never get used to it. Your heart simultaneously combusts and expands.  September 11, 2021 will have an entirely different meaning for me for the rest of my life. 

TIPPI UNN SIGRID, CGC, TDI-A

2007 - 2021

It was a cold December. We had just lost our beloved Gracie, my first experience with Norwegian Elkhounds (Hubby had one as a kid). Hubby was traveling; we’d contacted Gracie’s breeder and asked about rescue organizations. We had a “list” of what we wanted…female, not a puppy. Under 5 years old. “This is going to take forever,” we remember thinking… I emailed Kari Olson, the name provided by Carol Loitfelter, and waited.

I didn’t have to wait long! Kari sent pictures…. The kids gathered around the computer, and said, “Oh yeah. We need to bring this girl home.” And then we talked about Tippi’s history. Well. That was that. When Hubby came back from his trip, we informed him that we had found our girl… Arrangements were made, and we drove up to get “Tiffany,” who was promptly re-named “Tippi” after my favorite Hitchcock actress, Tippi Hedren, who is an animal activist.

We got to the place where Tippi lived, and put her in the car. At that point, Tippi heaved a sigh, as if to say, “Here we go again,” because she didn’t realize she’d found “forever” that day. On the trip home, I kept twisting around and petting her, and we kept talking to her, hoping that she’d realize she was heading home. She met “her boys,” which caused great bouts of wiggle-butt and zoomies, and was hugged and cuddled and welcomed to her new home.

We discovered she loved fresh fruit. Her favorite was frozen blueberries. We also discovered that she loved pizza bones, and buttered toast. She tried out ALL the dog beds. She ate good food. Had clean water. Got used to being inside a house. Learned that it was ok when the garbage truck came by every week – they weren’t stealing our stuff! The first few car trips were a bit rough; there was still that lingering fear in our girl: “was I being sent somewhere else?”

The first few months, she settled in, met River, her Siberian Sister, and just relaxed into the fact that she wasn’t going anywhere. Good food, water, dog beds everywhere…she was happy. Car rides no longer caused the “am I leaving?” anxiety. We took her to training, figuring that she and I could “bond” a bit and help her settle in better, and Tippi sailed through beginning and intermediate Obedience. Her trainer, Bobbie Schultz, discovered her few tricks, especially Tippi’s talent of “talking.” She noticed that Tippi was very good around reactive dogs, and said, “You know…she might make a good therapy dog…” And there you go. She passed Advanced Obedience, achieved her Canine Good Citizen status, and then passed her TDI evaluation. After working with Tippi, Bobbie decided to go forward with her own training, and completed her certification as a TDI evaluator – Tippi had a way of convincing people that they could be their best!

During this whole time, she, River and Quinn (her daughter, who joined us as a foster [failure] 3 months after Tippi came home) enjoyed time at the dog park with Hubby, and long rambles in the various park trails. After River lost the sight in one eye, Tippi often gravitated to that side, so that she could help steer River away from obstacles at the park, and keep other dogs from surprising her. Already, she was showing her “nurturing” side. She and Quinn loved the heavy snow, where they could plow through the empty dog park with abandon, while the other dogs and owners stayed home…elkhounds + snow = a magical combination.

Her personality came out in bits at first, and then all in a rush. She was a true elk-clown, but with her own special twist. She wasn’t a big kisser and that was fine. She was, however, a champion at getting really, really close to you and wanting you to give her chin skritches, belly rubs, and butt rubs. Her ability to sling her paw over your hand to just keep you there was legendary. She participated for several years in the John Nelsen Moosedog Rescue fund (JNMRF) Howl-O-Ween contest, winning in 2010 with a “costume” called “They’ll never notice I’m on the couch…” – herself wrapped in a grey blanket with just her tail out. Yes – she challenged, and won – the battle of “no dogs on the furniture.” Then, she won again in 2017, with “I can’t believe I’m wearing bunny ears.” She just was so happy and you could see it in the photos.

She was a champion at NOT stealing food; seriously, you could leave your pizza slice on a plate next to your chair and it would be there when you got back from the kitchen…however, after chemo? All bets were off. She’d steal half my sandwich, and would look at me as if to say, “I’ve had chemo – I’m starving…and I left you half of it!”

All through training, she showed her patience with other dogs; she loved everyone, especially her trainer Bobbie, who christened her “Robo-Dog” for the willingness Tippi showed in learning everything. She loved everyone – the more she felt comfortable at home, the more friendly she got. She would often be asked to be the “non-reactive” dog in situations where Bobbie was working with private clients. She had a best friend in training: Shallot, the Chinese Crested. We thought for sure she’d try to eat her…but they became bosom buddies, kind of like Laurel and Hardy.

Tippi started her therapy dog career at Our Lady of Angels Retirement Home, where her big brown eyes and cheeky smiles made every nun in the place absolutely certain that she was STARVING. Which she wasn’t, of course! I had to admonish several sisters that they should only feed her the treats she was allowed, not cookies!

She worked at Will County Children’s Advocacy Center, sitting with children before they saw the social workers and police officers (her ears were privy to many a secret conversation with the kids and she really had a crush on a couple of the cops, too), also worked at several grade schools, attended meetings of Compassionate Friends, spent time with the Joliet School District 86 as Principal for a Day, visiting a school for children with different abilities, and attended Take Back the Night. She counted the Will County State’s Attorney as one of her closest friends, but it was probably that he smelled like Great Dane... Her longest tenure, though, was at Lewis University as their first (and so far, only) therapy dog.

Stories from Our Lady of Angels: One day, Tippi and I arrived and checked in. Tippi stopped for a moment, and then actually dragged me down one hallway, which was a different route than we usually took. The hallway was lined with nuns. Tippi got to the end of the line, sat down next to the nearest sister…and stayed there. Sister Marie had just died; the nuns were praying and singing as she was being prepared to go to the funeral home. Tippi would not move. She stayed there, and as the undertakers took Sister Marie out, the nuns formed a procession, which Tippi joined. They walked Sister Marie to the hearse. Tippi stood at the door and each nun touched her head as they walked back toward the chapel.

Tippi had been visiting Sister Julie, who didn’t speak. After several months of visiting, as they entered the common area where she was sitting, Sr. Julie leaned forward and said, “Dog!” Tippi always seemed to know which nuns she could be boisterous around and which nuns needed her to sit and be quiet. She learned to “back in” next to the wheelchairs so that the nuns didn’t have to lean forward to pet her. It only took her a few visits to memorize which rooms she was able to go in, and which rooms didn’t want a visit.

Starting her time at Lewis University, we initially visited outside, but the lure of many chipmunks caused a slight change in venue…to the Science Building. She was particularly fond of Dr. Rago, who used big stuffed toys in the shapes of viruses. Tippi always hoped he’d toss one her way! Not only did the students adore her, but there were several professors who were happy to get down on the ground with her and see if they could be the “First Belly Rub of the Day” – a considerable honor, as she didn’t bestow that favor lightly. She was invited to many department meetings, and also participated in Super Study Week and Opening Day Welcome Fairs. Eventually, we moved into the Library. Tippi drew lots of students into the library, and was particularly fond of several of them. Brother Chris (the university is run by the DeLaSalle Christian Brothers), who ran the Writing Center located in the library, was a special visitor. Not only was Tippi happy to see him in general, but he took to slipping little bites of chicken to her – strictly against the rules! She even got Brother Lawrence to admit that she was “quite a good girl.”

She had a story written for the student newspaper about her and the young man assigned to write it was, he said, terrified of dogs. She somehow knew this, and sat away from him…at first. As the young man and I talked, Tippi gradually moved closer and closer, till she was leaning against his leg. He looked down and said, “I guess this is what a therapy dog does.” A foreign exchange student from Israel thought she was a German Shepherd mix, and visited often. After learning about the breed, he asked, “I wonder if Elkhounds can live in Israel?” as he was preparing to go back home after finishing his degree. She was particularly well-received by many of the foreign exchange students, and was able to teach them about dogs where there were cultures who didn’t have the American experience of having a companion animal.

She would wear a hat (headband) appropriate to each season, and right before Christmas, we used to bring the whole bag of hats and let the students take selfies with Tippi in the hat of their choice. We had lots of students connecting on her Facebook page, and they were so proud to be the occasional “cover students” when we took group shots. My mom went through her fabric stash and made up a number of bandanas for Tippi to wear to “work.” She was a most stylish dog.

As Elkhounds can, she was able to sense when a student needed her. The students would gather in a circle and she would make her way from person to person. They all knew that she’d stop at each person eventually, but would often spend more time with someone if she felt that they needed it. All of them waited patiently for their turn. She did her version of “Tricky Dog” for the students – if you asked her a question, she’d clack her teeth and woof the answer. She would sit up, shake, do high-5 and do “doggie push-ups” (going from standing on hind legs to down) but she would never roll over…no matter how enticing the treat. She delighted the track teams when they were training – they’d break their run to stop and pose and ask for a picture. I've probably got at least a gigabyte of pictures of her time at Lewis. There were more than a few times when the University President’s office would call and ask, “Is Tippi available for this activity?” I was just her driver…

Her cancer diagnosis coincided with the summer break at school. The initial diagnosis was Lymphoma, both Type A and Type B (Tippi never did anything by halves). Half-way through her chemo, which Hubby organized and handled, we felt a lump in her neck. That turned out to be thyroid cancer. We were able to time the removal of part of her thyroid in between chemo treatments. The treatment was rough, but Tippi conquered it.

Before COVID-19 shut everything down, Tippi was able to make a few more visits to Lewis University once her oncologist said she was cleared; it was obvious that while Tippi’s attitude was still enthusiastic, the cancer and chemo had sapped her energy. She retired from active therapy dog duties, particularly in light of TDI’s requirement that she continue vaccinations. Her oncologist strongly recommended that we not update her vaccinations, due to the particular kind of lymphoma she had, so it was time for the “Tuesdays with Tippi” era to end. At the time of her retirement, she was TDI-A -- a dog who'd volunteered at over 200 hours of visits; she was nearing 300 when she finally had to stop visiting.

She became Queen of the House on an official basis. She enjoyed her retirement. She had 2 “bonus years” of good health after finishing chemo, and in typical Elkhound fashion, was strong right up to 48 hours before her final journey. While there’s an Elkhound-sized hole in our hearts and in our home, we know that she’s free from pain and enjoying renewing her friendship with River, Gracie, Topaz, and so many of our other Elkhound friends.

We wish there were words to convey the true depth and breadth of Tippi’s personality. She started out life a little rough. But she overcame it. She contributed to good things on this planet. She made people smile, she brought joy. She demanded her fair share of attention, as is right and proper. She was well and truly loved. My mom said she was “her favorite of the furry grand-kids.” She was beautiful, inside and out. We are so lucky that Kari Olson dropped by that gas station and saw the sign. Talk about the stars aligning. It’s as if our Gracie was directing the action from over the Bridge – she saw another Elkhound in need and pointed the humans right in Tippi’s direction. When we name our dogs, we think about it a bit. You know why we named her Tippi. “Unn” is Norwegian for “she is loved.” And Sigrid is a Norwegian name that means “beautiful.”

She was 14.9 years old. She was, and I know how lucky I am, the third "dog of my heart." And she'll be the last one. For as much as I'm attached to Quinn & Raisa, there's a Tippi-sized hole in my heart and it will always be there. We had her cremated. I plan to have a dogwood tree planted at Lewis University in her honor, and her ashes are here at home. When I go, she's going with me.