My dog died. And it feels weird.

I haven’t seen the ol’ dog for over 5 years, and when the dog hit 12 years of age I started preparing myself for the eventual email or notification of sorts from the parents that the dog had passed. The time difference between the U.S. and Japan doesn’t make such notices easy. By the time it’s happened and I get the notice, quite a bit of time has passed (I imagine).

Today, I woke up to a Facebook message notification that came in around 5 a.m. (6 p.m. Japan time). A message from my dad. About the dog.

Gina, sad news today……..Taffy passed away today, she had a seizure that left her blind, unable to control her body or walk…

They had to put her down.

She was 17 years old. And damn, she had a great life.

I was expecting this “the dog died” note for some time, but because she was (until now) so fucking healthy, the thought of her dying became a thought buried under other thoughts in the back of my mind.

It’s weird.

Weird because Taffy is the first dog that my immediate family has owned from puppydom in ’98, to her death today. We’ve owned plenty of other dogs but we always had to give them away because of dog restrictions in some homes we lived in while off the navy base. The average time we’ve owned a dog, if I had to guess was probably around three years… I could be completely wrong, but that’s my guess based on the number of times we’ve cycled through base housing and off-base housing that allowed dogs.

I’m hoping that when I finally own a dog, it’ll be as awesome and loving and great as Taffy.



  1. Nice wrap up and pictures! she had a great life and is now enjoying endless days chasing rabbits and eating ice cream. she will be missed


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