I grew up in a family of five kids––and I was born third. Being in the middle, I would more or less be overlooked in many things, which made me an introvert. That was until my 8th birthday, when my dad bought me a dog. My life has never been the same again. I received a little German shepherd dog that I decided to name Tiger.
Tiger was a great dog. He was a friend to everyone who lived in our home and did not smile with anyone from the outside. Tiger was like a self-trained dog. He was very intelligent and self-sustaining. He learned things so fast and even though we did not have any dog-training experience, he did not need to be told too many times. Therefore, he was an easy dog to train. It took him one day to learn that he shouldn’t poop in the house. He identified a spot outside and used that for the rest of his long life.
Tiger knew who was a friend and who wasn’t. If I walked into our home with a friend, he automatically became a friend to Tiger––depending on how we were interacting. If I was mad at someone, so was Tiger. No one could access our home without someone from the inside being with them.
This proved very valuable to us when thieves tried to break into our house. Tiger attacked the two thieves, drawing blood from one. The chaos woke us up and we raised the alarm. The thieves managed to get away, but not after one of them had lost a lot of blood. Suffice it to say: Tiger’s menu became a lot better after that. Plenty of meat and milk on his plate.
Tiger was also a very playful dog. The moment I would arrive home from school, he would stand on my lap with two of his limbs and implore me to take a run with him.I would run and he would chase after me, wagging his tail with joy. I would throw a sponge ball anywhere at random and he would happily fetch it and place it at my feet. He was truly a joy to be around.
We grew older with Tiger, learning all sorts of things together. I had to leave for boarding school at one point when the teenage years rolled around. I would miss Tiger, he would miss me. Our reunions were always a joyous occasion, even for those around us watching. I came back from boarding school once and found Tiger limping heavily with one back leg. He had grown old and he was unable to walk properly.
When I returned from school for the holidays one summer, I was not met by Tiger. My dad had put him down due to old age. I am not ashamed to say that, at the age of sixteen, I cried for one of my best friends.