We got Tigger when she was about six months old; she was a Christmas present to my ailing father back in 1992. She’s fifteen-plus.
One of these days, and not very far off, she is going to die.
Not yet, though. She’s still got a lot of resilience in her. She developed a horrid sore on her left elbow recently, and we’d been giving her antibiotics for it, but it wasn’t healing. So we took her to the vet, thinking terrible thoughts about bone infections and other awful things. She came home this afternoon, looking a little worse for wear.
Not three minutes after this picture was taken, she jumped up and ran twenty feet into the playroom to bark at some intruder walking past her house. She’s the most incredibly strong and stoic dog I’ve ever seen.