My son called me earlier and asked me to come down to the house. He said that Tippy, my little dog, would not come out from under the house for him and wanted me to come and call him to me. I went down and called and called and whistled but he wasn't budging. I could see that he was breathing, but wasn't getting up.
I found Tippy on the side of the road in Houston about 13 1/2 years ago when he was just a puppy. Little tiny black and white thing with a white tip on his tail. Thus he was named Tippy. We called him many nick names over the years, Tippy Boy, Thibodeaux, Tipster, Tip. He came to them all.
He was a great little dog. Never gave us any problems. He didn't like anyone messing with his tail. They would do it just to tease him and he would let them know right away to leave his tail alone. Then they would say 'Tippy' and he would wag that tail then lick your hand. He had these little short legs but could run like lightning.
He was a tough little cookie. He weighed about 20 pounds and I saw him take on a 85 pound Labrador once. I broke it up, neither were hurt, but Tip thought he was king of the hill, strutting around with that tail in the air. There are three other dogs at the house, all bigger than him and outweigh him by at least 35 pounds. If they scrap he wants to be right in there among the fight. He thought he was as big as them, in his brave little heart he was.
Tippy would be laying in his little bed and my oldest son would say to him, ' Tippy, give me a Grrrrrrrr!'. without moving a muscle he would growl for him. Then my son would say, 'Tippy' and he would just wag that tail. I had a bay window and had a bench there for him so he could see outside, when I would come home I could see him on that bench looking at me and wagging that tail so happy to see me. My 10 minutes of fame everyday when I came home from work, or from anywhere.
He would sit up pretty on his backend for a treat. He never begged at the table, he just laid about 2 feet away in case anything fell on the floor. He was quick to retrieve it if it did. He was my dog, my little friend. If I cried he would jump in my lap and lick me, then lay his head on my shoulder. I always had a stocking for him at Christmas filled with treats.
My son crawled under the house and got Tippy out this evening. He died shortly there after. My brave little dog with a heart of gold had lost his battle with age and arthritis. I cried so hard. He was part of our family and I loved him. I will miss him dearly. I hope that he is happy and free and chasing cats in Heaven. I will miss you my Tippy Boy, you were the best dog anyone could ask for. I was lucky that you chose me.