Tuffy's Time

Life is just not the same. Sticks now lay untouched in the yard. We put on our carhartts without fear of a tackle. The feed buckets are accumulating fat, no longer licked clean. The puppies must navigate the trails without a guide who they can tease and tug. The water bowl does not need to be refreshed two times daily. Despite the presence of three other house dogs, there is a huge void in our household - the Tuffman is gone.


We adopted Tuffy in the fall of 1995. He was a rogue dog, one year old with a record at the Borough Animal Control. His previous owner had gotten him as a pup then married into a family with seven young kids. Not a good situation for a young Australian sheep dog with an instinct for herding. At a birthday party for one of the kids he bit two of the guests, breaking the skin and earning an undesirable record with the Boro.

Soon after this episode, I met Tuffy when his owner came over to work on our ATV. While the mechanic was at work, Tuffy repeatedly offered me sticks to throw for him. He was a busy boy, expecting lots of attention. He was very pretty too, black and white with speckles . I commented that he was a nice dog and was surprised when his owner offered Tuffy to us. I was intrigued by Aussies having met several over at Natalie Norris's and thought it would be nice to have a dog different than the huskies in the yard. Not knowing his history, I discussed the offer with Devan and we accepted. Life would never be the same.

A week after Tuffy joined our family, we received a call from the Matsu Animal Control Dept. It turns out Tuffy was listed as a Dangerous Animal and they were checking up on him. They wanted to confirm that we was in a home without children. I confirmed that and we never heard from them again. Tuffy was safe and loved. For a long time.

I won't claim he never bit anyone again but he certainly was not a dangerous dog. As he grew older, we knew he would be a grumpy old man. And as his back end grew weaker and we needed to help him get up and down more often, life for Tuffy became more difficult. He had a lot of pride and so the help we offered was not always welcome in spite of the need.

But in between the young Tuffy and the old Tuffy were some great years of companionship. One of his favorite passtimes was traveling in the car or truck. And as our friends will attest, he liked the front seat no matter who might be using it. Back seat was not an option for Tuffy and he would find a way to squirm into the front however we tried to prevent him. I vividly remember Nancy, aka Karen, fighting for space in the front seat as we drove from Anderson to Fairbanks and the toe mark bruises on her legs the next day. That seat was Tuffy's and we all knew it.

If a car door was left open, even for a minute, Tuffy would jump in I think in part because it was the one place he never had to share with the other dogs. He could spend all day contentedly sleeping in the car or truck.

Tuffy was protective of the car as well. If the car was parked and someone passed by, Tuffy would lunge at the window barking with enthusiasm, scaring (the crap out of) anyone unprepared. We never had to worry about the car if Tuffman was there.

His other favorite hobby was fetching sticks, balls, frisbees, logs, whatever you could throw or he could find - no matter the size. Tuffy learned very early to fetch our slippers from the upstairs bedroom. He was even smart enough to distinguish between Devan's slippers and mine.

One day, our neighbors in Knik were visiting and Tuffy offered John a stick to throw which he did. Unfortunately, this was a dry year favorable to yellow jackets and John unknowingly threw the stick into a ground hive. Tuffy did not care; he retrieved the stick and returned with a number of unwanted friends.

Tuff hated to be left behind so joined us on short and long trips around the state and he attended every Iditarod start from 1996 to 2006. He was not a happy camper when we did have to leave him home for a longer period and felt a bit demeaned when he was kenneled like the huskies. But the welcome we received upon return was great. One time, after a ten day trip back East, we released him from the kennel and he went charging into the woods 50mph. Soon enough he returned carrying a log about 5 feet long, dropping at our feet with the expectation that we would throw it for him. I think he felt we owed him so many stick days that this oversized "stick" might compensate.

Aussies are creatures of habit and Tuffy was no exception. Every morning, first thing he would barrel out the front door, barking, telling the world it was time to wake up. If anything like a shoe or boot was nearby, he would grab it and take it with him, running the same route which navigated the perimeter of our property. He would never return with the shoe or boot and sometimes it would not be recovered until springtime if at all.

Continuing a tradition started by our friends, Donna and Pete, we would "torture" the sheepdog several times a year. At Christmas we would dress him up with green or red booties and adorn him with ornaments and tinsel. Tuffy was surprisingly tolerant of our silliness but very happy when undressed after the pictures. We also had to hook him up with the sleddogs so he could appreciate better what those good for nothings (Tuffy's opinion) in the yard were about.

As I told my Mom, I think I could write a book about Tuffy, the Buckethead dog. I just don't have time at the moment. For now this will have to do and I hope he will forgive me. If you read this entire blog, you probably knew Tuffy and have a story of your own to share. We'd love to remember him with you... .