Yesterday afternoon we lost our beloved family pet Tigerlily. She’d lived beyond a hundred in dog years, but had been increasingly living in pain over the last few days. So we all sat around the vet’s office and said goodbye.
My mum Debra picked her out as a companion to herself and Romeo back when my sister and I were in high school in Singapore. A part of me felt she was living through her somehow, so Tigerlily moving on was the last small spark of her still around being extinguished.
As my mum’s own condition worsened, I think these two wonderful dogs did more to help her than anyone or anything else. They were sweethearts.
Tiger, as we came to call her, was the mischievous of the two. One time we thought she’d escaped, only to find her perched on the top of the piano like a tiny white statue next to the stairs. And whereas Romeo would attempt to cute his way to treats, Tiger’s doe-eyes could get you to do anything.
She’d rapidly spin in clockwise circles when she was excited; enough that I used to joke we could power a generator. If I sat cross-legged on the floor, she’d bound over and jump into my lap, as she did in the photo above. And if you blew lightly into her face, regardless of whether you had morning coffee breath or just finished eating something tasty, she’d rapidly extend her iguana-like tongue to try and lap it up. Silly little thing.
She was so much a part of our lives for almost two decades, I can’t imagine what it’ll be without her. At least she’s reunited now with her friend. ♡