Paw Prints On My Heart. — episode 4 — Taffy

Taffy joined our family in Windsor. She was the result of a mistaken identity- a friend of mom’s bought her thinking she was a Cairn Terrier. This friend was possibly the most glamorous woman I had ever seen. Her makeup was always perfect. She had an array of salon-styled, human hair wigs in a variety of colors — you never knew who would show up for coffee, Marylin Munro or Maureen O’Hara. She was up to the minute in every aspect of her life and wanted to possess the dog of the day (Toto from the wizard of oz). Turned out that although this friend was a fashionista, she wasn’t very bright. Taffy didn’t even look like a Cairn Terrier, she was a mutt. The penny finally dropped about a week after the seller cashed their cheque. Taffy found herself in Need of a new home before she was even house trained.

We weren’t in the market for a puppy – Gyp was proving to be more dog than anyone could handle – but Taffy was irresistible. She was the most adorable pup; small enough to fit up the sleeve of my dad’s business suit jacket and cute enough to be invited do so.

I was a terribly awkward 13 year old who had trouble making friends. I lobbied ferociously for the puppy. Taffy became my bestie; she made my years in Windsor less lonely. Taffy was always more of a stuffed toy than a dog. That little dog was the best confidant – her golden fur absorbed tears like a sponge, her kisses licked away the evidence. With a friend like Taffy the world was bearable. The two of us became inseparable.

Taffy’s biggest flaw was that she was yappy – her bark was quick and ear piercing. She also had a malfunctioning clock – we would all get the same welcome whether we’d been away for a week or had just taken the garbage out – she was always overcome with joy when we walked in the door. She also loved to sing when we played the piano – it became her party trick (nose to the heavens, howling, always off key) encores were requested frequently.

In spite of her poor sense of time Taffy had a remarkable memory and several favorite people. She would loose her mind every time Gramma came for a visit. Unlike most people, who wondered why on earth we would put up with a dog who barked like Taffy, Gramma seemed to love her and know her worth like I did. Gramma knew a fancy rendition of Heart and Soul for the piano, Taffy and I loved it when she played – Taffy would sing, Gramma would laugh and my heart and soul would swell.

Taffy filled a giant hole in my life when I grew too old to play with dolls – she was like the baby I felt I was always waiting for.

Taffy made the move to South Surrey with us. She was less impressed with country life than Gyp – Taffy spent most of her time indoors, barking. I don’t remember Taffy and Gyp being much for friends, Gyp being a dog and all.

Taffy lived a long time, seventeen years to be exact. She loved me through the tough teen years, watched me date and fall in love and eventually came to live with me again. She welcomed the real babies of my life and was a major help when in came to cleaning up crumbs around the high chair  (I didn’t realize how efficient she was until she wasn’t there to lick up the mess anymore).

I’m not sure any of my children have an actual memory of that darling little dog or if I’ve just given them snippets of my own – I have enough to be generous. She was a spot of gold in an otherwise lonely time in my life. And she became a witness of all that was to come. I miss that little dog and love her, still.

so cute  —  so not a Cairn Terrier