We lost one of our family today.
Tug was born in 2004, he came to live with us in July that year. He was one of 5, born to a toy chihuahua that weighed 4 pounds. His sire was also a toy, he weighed 6 pounds. Full grown, Tug weighed 13 pounds.
Tug was a very unique dog, he was black with a white blaze on his chest; his legs were sturdy, his body a barrel; he was made for a farm.
I had begged Derek for 3 years to let me get a chihuaha, but he kept telling me he didn't want a yapping, ankle biting, miget of a dog. About a month and a half after bringing Tug home, I had to go to Alaska on a fire assignment, when I came home two weeks later, Derek belonged to Tug. He jokingly told me one day, after Tug went to him instead of me, "You know, you really ought to get you one of these dogs...". Tug was my husbands best friend.
He did this cute little dance, standing on his back legs and pawing at the air when he wanted you to pick him up, or wanted to go for a ride. He loved to play fetch and of course, he loved to play tug with an old knotted sock, for which he got his name. He would sleep at night between Derek and I, keeping warm and returning the favor.
He never yapped, he never nipped, he was a 'big' dog.
Sometime this morning, he was killed by coyotes.
Our lives will never be the same.