Tasha and Rippy
I couldn't write about Nova and then not to the same about Tasha and Rippy. They came before Nova and were truly as big a part of me as Nova is now.
Tasha was a Shepherd, Husky, Lab and all black. She came into my life first. My husband and I got her when she was a baby. I remember carrying her out to the car and how she cuddled in my arms all the way home. I also remember how she slipped through the swinging door separating the kitchen and dining room and preceded to chew everything she could find; silk flowers, wicker coasters. And then there was the time we took her to New York with us for Christmas and I handed her to Mom and said Merry Christmas. Her reply, 'that dog had better not be staying', because Mom didn't want a dog, much less a puppy, at the time. But Dad loved her.
For the most part, Tasha was a good girl. She was easy to potty train and loveable; she used to curl around my head at night and learned quick not to get up early on Saturday mornings. She was also a handful the times she'd squeeze out the back door and take us on a merry chase through base housing. I remember one time her head narrowly missed being squashed by a car tire; I thought I was going to have a heart attack that day. She liked wearing old T-shirts, loved her food and treats, waited everyday for the mailman so she could bark at him and was great company the year my hubby went to Greenland. That's when she became overweight, because I'd share dinner with her; whatever I got at the drive thru, she got one, too. And then we were transferred to another base and Tasha had homesickness for a month. She wouldn't come out of the bedroom except to eat and go outside.
Eventually, she grew to like her new house and the huge back yard that came with it. Here she could run and get the exercise she needed. And then along came Rippy, a puppy she did not want and did not like. She hated having her home invaded by this new dog, hated his energy and his constantly wanting her to play with him. She'd ignore him and run roughshod over him when she had to. Until Rippy got bigger and became the boss.
We got Rippy because I'd always wanted a purebred German Shepherd, one like the Rip my family had when I was a child. This Rippy was very different from the old Rip. His parents were huge Shepherds, but Rip was small and hyper. He proved this by busting out of a metal dog kennel; he actually ripped off two of the spokes and found his way upstairs to Tasha and freedom; where he chewed furniture, remote controls, cassette tapes, my boots and the screen door leading inside the house from the garage. There was nothing left to it except a bent frame.
He loved Tasha. Right from the start, he'd follow after her, try to sleep beside her and steal her food, which for Tasha was a huge no-no. She nearly took his head off a couple of times when he ate the food in her dish. But when he got older, he got even. He would hide his chew bone--under the pillows on our bed, behind furniture, in the woodpile out back; we used to watch him do this--and then steal hers. So the fights began and suffice it to say, the chew bones went away.
After a while, Tasha became tolerant of Rippy and the two were inseparable. They'd sleep together, some part of their bodies always touching (I have pictures). They'd play together, roam the back yard, which became Rippy's territory, and watch over the house. Tasha taught Rippy how to bark and together they made a fierce pair when someone rang the door bell.
I have to say Rippy loved Tasha. She was his world. I didn't know how much until Tasha had to have knee surgery, which took her out of the house for a couple of days. Rip missed her so much he broke windows and chewed carpets waiting for her to come home. And when she did, he was so gentle with her, which was touching because he was always rough and goofy.
My husband got orders to the Pentagon the same time I got pregnant, and that's when Rippy started to become more protective, especially of me. I'd take him for walks and as long as no approached me, he was fine. If someone did, he gave a warning growl and would give pursuit to other dogs who charged at him. And when the baby was born, that protectiveness transferred to the baby--Tasha could have cared less about the baby. But Rip always watched the baby and would come find me if the baby cried, after he poked his nose in the bassinet to see if the baby was all right. He'd even make sure we brought the baby home the times we went out, and when my son began to walk, Rip was right behind him, watching over him to make sure he didn't fall.
The spring before my husband retired from the Air Force, Tasha had been ill for about 6 months and passed away. I think Rippy suspected her illness and left her alone those last couple of days. He did say goodbye to her, and when she was gone, he wasn't destructive this time. He was even more protective of the family. When we sold our house, we had to take him for walks when people came to look, as he was now bound to go after strangers.
That carried over to the last years of his life. I couldn't let adults in the house without first locking him up (kids were fine; he loved them). Then I'd make the people sit, let Rippy sniff them while I held his mouth shut and then he'd be satisfied and go on his merry way. The only exception to this was my parents; for some reason he'd remembered staying with them and allowed them in the house. I still took him on walks, where he'd lollygag along, always watchful of his surroundings, my son and me.
To this day, I miss him. He was friendship, security, dependability; everything a person could want in a dog. I'd gone from being woken at four in the morning when he was a puppy and suffering from growing pains to being awakened in the middle of the night when a thunderstorm passed to having to protect friends and strangers from being biten and watching him trade his love of the outdoors for the comfort of the couch when he got older and busted yet another window to get in and I'd do it all again. That's not to say I didn't love and cherish Tasha, or Nova now, because I did and do, but Rippy somehow became my favorite, my rock and stability and will always be remembered for the great companion that he was.
Tasha was a Shepherd, Husky, Lab and all black. She came into my life first. My husband and I got her when she was a baby. I remember carrying her out to the car and how she cuddled in my arms all the way home. I also remember how she slipped through the swinging door separating the kitchen and dining room and preceded to chew everything she could find; silk flowers, wicker coasters. And then there was the time we took her to New York with us for Christmas and I handed her to Mom and said Merry Christmas. Her reply, 'that dog had better not be staying', because Mom didn't want a dog, much less a puppy, at the time. But Dad loved her.
For the most part, Tasha was a good girl. She was easy to potty train and loveable; she used to curl around my head at night and learned quick not to get up early on Saturday mornings. She was also a handful the times she'd squeeze out the back door and take us on a merry chase through base housing. I remember one time her head narrowly missed being squashed by a car tire; I thought I was going to have a heart attack that day. She liked wearing old T-shirts, loved her food and treats, waited everyday for the mailman so she could bark at him and was great company the year my hubby went to Greenland. That's when she became overweight, because I'd share dinner with her; whatever I got at the drive thru, she got one, too. And then we were transferred to another base and Tasha had homesickness for a month. She wouldn't come out of the bedroom except to eat and go outside.
Eventually, she grew to like her new house and the huge back yard that came with it. Here she could run and get the exercise she needed. And then along came Rippy, a puppy she did not want and did not like. She hated having her home invaded by this new dog, hated his energy and his constantly wanting her to play with him. She'd ignore him and run roughshod over him when she had to. Until Rippy got bigger and became the boss.
We got Rippy because I'd always wanted a purebred German Shepherd, one like the Rip my family had when I was a child. This Rippy was very different from the old Rip. His parents were huge Shepherds, but Rip was small and hyper. He proved this by busting out of a metal dog kennel; he actually ripped off two of the spokes and found his way upstairs to Tasha and freedom; where he chewed furniture, remote controls, cassette tapes, my boots and the screen door leading inside the house from the garage. There was nothing left to it except a bent frame.
He loved Tasha. Right from the start, he'd follow after her, try to sleep beside her and steal her food, which for Tasha was a huge no-no. She nearly took his head off a couple of times when he ate the food in her dish. But when he got older, he got even. He would hide his chew bone--under the pillows on our bed, behind furniture, in the woodpile out back; we used to watch him do this--and then steal hers. So the fights began and suffice it to say, the chew bones went away.
After a while, Tasha became tolerant of Rippy and the two were inseparable. They'd sleep together, some part of their bodies always touching (I have pictures). They'd play together, roam the back yard, which became Rippy's territory, and watch over the house. Tasha taught Rippy how to bark and together they made a fierce pair when someone rang the door bell.
I have to say Rippy loved Tasha. She was his world. I didn't know how much until Tasha had to have knee surgery, which took her out of the house for a couple of days. Rip missed her so much he broke windows and chewed carpets waiting for her to come home. And when she did, he was so gentle with her, which was touching because he was always rough and goofy.
My husband got orders to the Pentagon the same time I got pregnant, and that's when Rippy started to become more protective, especially of me. I'd take him for walks and as long as no approached me, he was fine. If someone did, he gave a warning growl and would give pursuit to other dogs who charged at him. And when the baby was born, that protectiveness transferred to the baby--Tasha could have cared less about the baby. But Rip always watched the baby and would come find me if the baby cried, after he poked his nose in the bassinet to see if the baby was all right. He'd even make sure we brought the baby home the times we went out, and when my son began to walk, Rip was right behind him, watching over him to make sure he didn't fall.
The spring before my husband retired from the Air Force, Tasha had been ill for about 6 months and passed away. I think Rippy suspected her illness and left her alone those last couple of days. He did say goodbye to her, and when she was gone, he wasn't destructive this time. He was even more protective of the family. When we sold our house, we had to take him for walks when people came to look, as he was now bound to go after strangers.
That carried over to the last years of his life. I couldn't let adults in the house without first locking him up (kids were fine; he loved them). Then I'd make the people sit, let Rippy sniff them while I held his mouth shut and then he'd be satisfied and go on his merry way. The only exception to this was my parents; for some reason he'd remembered staying with them and allowed them in the house. I still took him on walks, where he'd lollygag along, always watchful of his surroundings, my son and me.
To this day, I miss him. He was friendship, security, dependability; everything a person could want in a dog. I'd gone from being woken at four in the morning when he was a puppy and suffering from growing pains to being awakened in the middle of the night when a thunderstorm passed to having to protect friends and strangers from being biten and watching him trade his love of the outdoors for the comfort of the couch when he got older and busted yet another window to get in and I'd do it all again. That's not to say I didn't love and cherish Tasha, or Nova now, because I did and do, but Rippy somehow became my favorite, my rock and stability and will always be remembered for the great companion that he was.
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