Tricky Woo

Tricky Woo, my bichon frisè, is 16 years young. He’s outlasted nearly every other dog I’ve known. He’s survived numerous sprains, illnesses, infections, and two surgeries. His eyes have cataracts and he recently became very hard of hearing. He rarely barks now, sleeps much more, and doesn’t seem to notice when strangers enter the house. But to me, he’s the same adorable puppy my family got more than 15 years ago.

He may not show as much energy and playfulness as he used to, but it’s still there. Every once in a while when he’s feeling especially spry, I’ll catch him prancing down our long corridor, rolling around on the rug to relieve an itch on his back, or looking at me with a big, satisfied grin on his face after a good meal. Nothing delights me more. He still has that youthful spirit and that’s how I’ll always remember him.

He never holds grudges and is always genuinely thrilled to see me. He doesn’t dwell on the past or focus on the negative. He finds joy in the little things. He reminds me that it’s OK to act silly, get dirty, and have a bad hair day. He never acts his age and isn’t afraid to stand up for himself despite his stature. He doesn’t care what other people think. He’s always himself – his same playful, energetic self. I don’t think I could ever repay him for these life lessons.

Tricky Woo is one of my best friends and I’ll miss him terribly when he passes. But we’re not going to worry about that right now. Today, we’ll focus on the best spot to watch the birds out the window, which tidbits might “accidentally” fall off the table during dinner, and what time Dad will be home so Tricky Woo can greet him by the door, tail wagging. Time passes, but some things never change.

-- by Andrea Wright-Agustin