Day 196 - Tux's Photo Frame (Throw)

My brother Russ made this frame for me after Tux's death.  And as much as I'd like to keep it, Tux has been dead over eleven years now.

Besides, Tux was annoying.  She was overly friendly.

Actually, she annoyed everyone but me.  I really only got annoyed when she would escape.


If you've got a couple of minutes to kill, here's the story on Tux:

The last girl I dated before I met Melissa had a friend who was looking to find homes for a bunch of puppies.  The mother was a "bull terrier" and the father was a "fence jumper".  I was living on my own in the parsonage in Marietta, Indiana, working as the pastor at the local UM church and this young lady, a dog lover herself, thought my life would be made complete with a puppy. 

How could I resist - especially once I saw the puppies?  My lady friend had never mentioned what a pain it could be to raise and train a puppy.  Tux was yipping all through the night and peeing and pooping all over the house all through the day.

About two weeks into this ordeal, the young lady dumps me.  Now I'm left alone ... except for this peeing, pooping reminder of HER. 

So one day I'm griping about this new puppy to a friend of mine and he says, "What kind of dog is it?"

And I respond, "It's a bull terrier mix."

His eyes get wide and he laughs, "You got a PIT BULL??"

"No," I say (ignorantly), "It's a BULL TERRIER."

Same thing. 

NOW I know.  (I sometimes relate this story to my English students now when we discuss the importance of Word Choice!)

Eventually I got my little pit bull house trained but she was really too much dog for a single guy lacking a fenced yard.  Tux was actually the catalyst for getting me into running because putting her on a leash was the only way to get rid of some of her energy.  And she was simply incapable of going for a WALK.

So one day I was playing with my pit bull in the living room of the parsonage.  Tux wasn't even a full year old yet.  She was repeatedly jumping into the air in an attempt to snatch one of her chew toys out of my hand.  Just three jumps into this game, she came down on her hind legs wrong and let out an unnatural scream and then collapsed on the floor.

The vet told me she had broken her upper hind leg into three pieces.  It was impossible to splint.  She needed surgery to fix the leg.

How much?  At least $2,000.

When the vet mentioned the figure, I sat there recalling the collection cup sitting on the counter of his waiting room.  It had caught my eye when I signed Tux in for her appointment.  The cup read "50 cents provides a full meal to a starving child" and people were expected to throw their loose change in the cup. 

I didn't have $2,000, and if I had had the money, I didn't know how I could justify spending an amount on a dog that could have provided meals to 4,000 starving human beings.

And that's how Tux came to an end.  And to this day I continue to struggle with how I choose to spend my money in a world filled with so much need ...