Tasha: Eight Years

In addition to being All Saints’ Day, 1 November is the day we brought Tasha home from the shelter eight years ago. Our vet estimated that she was a year and a half at the time, so we designated her birthday as 1 May in honor of my late maternal grandmother. That would make her nine now.

You wouldn’t know it. She has every bit as much energy as she had when we brought her home eight years ago. Her ability to jump and to thunder up and down the stairs is undiminished. She can still lead the charge at the end of the leash if she feels so inclined. She leaps onto the bed with as much aplomb as ever.

Terry and I have reflected that neither of us have had a pet that was as committed to their routine as is Tasha. She leaps onto the bed when the timer turns on the light downstairs just before seven, insisting on her canned food. She has to have her dry food when we go downstairs for breakfast (on weekdays at least) and in the evening between 5:30 and 6:00. She lets us know if we’re not properly accommodating. She has to have her two walks a day. While she can be patient if I need to be on a call, she will also stalk me if I don’t get to that task quickly enough. And while she may dawdle, pee, and sniff on her walks, she is a bundle of energy when I head downstairs to get her leash.

Tasha never fails to keep us entertained and we are so happy and blessed to have her as part of our family.