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.”
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.
