Jefferson “Jeffy” Tinydog 2014-2024
In the Spring of 2010 Estelle and I moved from the house we rented to The Waldo, an upscale renovated apartment building in Downtown Cincinnati. Due to the recession and changing climate of downtown at the time, we were able to get a great rent price and live in the heart of the city. I was working at LPK Design up the street, so I was living literally 2 blocks from my job. Down the street from us was Washington Park, also recently renovated. The park had a dog area, and I told Estelle now that we lived in a spacious apartment near an awesome park we should get a dog.
In the next few months I got to know a new version of life. I am a very large black man (6ft tall, near 300 lbs). I’m used to people kind of keeping their distance from me on the street. Then I got a small dog. Suddenly people would stop me to pet the dog, to make small talk and to get to know him. In the process I learned that you have no business expecting social distance if you have a dog. People want to meet dogs, especially when they’re pocket sized and adorable. I met people through Jefferson and sometimes made friends because of him. One in particular is my great friend Jonathan (AKA Chicago Jon). We were at the park and Kathryn noticed him. She said to me “Look David, another big man with a little dog”. We waved him over and struck up a conversation. Jon’s been my friend ever since. Over the years, I had to learn fast how to have a little dog in my life. He was so small and was ALWAYS close to me (velcro dog) so I learned how to be more aware of my size. My fear was stepping or sitting on him. He was super affectionate, often preferring to crawl right down my collar and take a nap inside my shirt. He’s so small it was easy to do that. He also ate really well and had a whole room (my office) to himself. The room went from a mostly functional home office to needing comfortable furniture and having SO MANY dog toys and a dog bed. It’s now his room, I’m just welcome to be there!
Jefferson loved me but he had a lot of anxiety when it came to me being away from him. If I left him in my apartment he would whine and cry and disturb my neighbors. If I took him with me to my office he would whine when I went to the restroom. He was surprisingly loud. Also when I left him in my home alone he would rip into the carpet or chew my computer cables. He had nervous energy and was afraid of being abandoned. Eventually I would get Kathryn to watch him for me with her two dogs, Amos and Herschel. Kathryn had the brilliant idea of asking her mother to start watching him. Linda (Grandma Linda) lived down the hallway in the studio section of our building. At first Jefferson was nervous about being in her apartment, but one day befriended her cat Ruby. From that day forward, Linda watched Jefferson for me Monday - Friday every week. Whether I needed to leave home or not, I had to take Jefferson down to her.
We lived this way for the next 8 years. Jefferson would always get “antsy” around 8 am because he knew it was time to go see Grandma Linda and Ruby. In time I started working at P&G, Estelle left her job at Tamar’s Place, but the consistency for Jeff was sleeping at night next to me, waking up and going for a walk, then spend all day with Grandma until I got home around 5 and picked him up. He would get happy and excited at the end of the day because he knew I would come take him home. From there, I’d feed him and snuggle on the couch, watching TV or playing a game until it was time to go to bed. Then we do the same thing all over again the next day. For him, his life was consistent, comfortable, stable and filled with good food, treats, his best friends and a wonderful doggy life. If we ever left town, Linda would take care of him for us. We knew he was always safe and cared for with her. The longest we were ever gone was 3 weeks last year. Linda would bring him up to our apartment so he could be there for a bit (usually he’d take a potty break in my bathroom) and then go back with her downstairs.
Approximately 2 months ago all of this changed for us. I received a job offer to come to Wisconsin/Illinois area to work for SC Johnson. After some deliberation I accepted the offer knowing that it meant that we would relocate. I was excited at the job offer but knew that all of our daily routines would be changed forever. Estelle and I had lived in Cincinnati since 2003, when LPK relocated us from Northern Indiana. In the many years since I either lived or worked (or both) in the 2 block radius of 8th street between Vine and Elm Street. We Ohio there to come to the Frosty Suburbia® of Wisconsin. In all the years I worked in Chicago or visited for business, I’d never been farther north than Northbrook, IL (about 20 minutes north of the city). This was much further north than that! We drove up to Racine, WI for the first time in October to see our new apartment and to meet my new manager. The papers were signed, the deal was cut; I started in November. There was ONE complication, even though we secured the apartment and was ready for me to start, our relocation company could not secure a move date until AFTER my start date. Also complicating things was that Estelle had a medical appointment with a specialist that she could not miss in early November. She was initially going to come back to Cincinnati for it, but since we couldn’t move anyway, we decided that that she would handle the move on her own and come up on the second week of November. I would go up to Wisconsin alone for two weeks. The second major complication was that she broke her ankle just before I left, so she handled the rest of packing and getting the movers going on a little wheel thing for her leg! She got it done, she’s a champ. :)
For Jefferson, that meant I would be away from him for two weeks. He knew something was changing because we were furiously prepping for the move, cleaning and packing things up. There were boxes everywhere and I brought out my suitcases. He knew that if my suitcases were out, I was leaving him (it didn’t matter for how long) and that was no good. On the morning I was to leave he tried to leave with me. Estelle was able to get him back in the apartment and I left Cincinnati for the last time. I flew from Cincinnati to Detroit, Detroit to Milwaukee, then I took a Lyft 30 minutes to Racine. I made it to my new apartment, found some dinner and beers and started my first weekend of what would be the latest adventure of my career. For two weeks I went to work every day, I came home to my empty apartment, ate dinner and FaceTime called Estelle and Jefferson every night until November 14th, the day of the big move. The movers packed up their truck the day before, Estelle got herself, Jefferson and Kathryn (who volunteered to come up with her) into our car and made the 5 plus hour drive from Ohio to Wisconsin for the last time. The movers arrived in Wisconsin that morning and were unloading our stuff. Kathryn sent me regular updates from the road as they made it up. And finally around 3pm I got to see my wife and my wonderful little dog for the first time in two weeks. I was overjoyed to see them! Even though Estelle was still limited in how far she could walk, we started unpacking our stuff and enjoyed the idea of being in our new place and our new life.
Jefferson was super happy to see me again but immediately was sad he couldn’t be with Linda and Ruby anymore. We did get to walk a bit before winter fully set-in and he enjoyed sniffing around the new apartment building. However, he resumed his old ways of whining whenever I’d leave to take out the trash or lord forbid, go to work in the morning. Estelle would drop me off and pick me up from work. Sometimes she would bring Jefferson with her in his little car seat. Of course when I got in the car, I HAD to hold him in my lap. We NEVER rode in that car together unless I was holding him. Jeffy wouldn’t let that happen, and we always spoiled him. We had it this way for 5 amazing weeks until last Sunday, December 22nd.
The weekend of our Christmas break began that Friday. Estelle came to get me and we went home (Jefferson did not come this time). I got home and was immediately greeted by my little guy. We had an uneventful Saturday, doing all the normal things. I was looking forward to spending some quality time at home with my wife and dog for two weeks, my first substantial break since the move. On Sunday night I fed Jefferson and sat down to watch TV. Estelle was making us dinner. Jefferson did his normal routine of presenting me a toy (his squeaky cow) to throw for him so he could fetch it. We’ve done this hundreds of times in the past. His usual routine was to volley back and forth then take the toy and throttle it for a while, squeaking away at it until he was ready for me to throw it again. I was watching tv and listened to the squeak until it stopped. I took this to mean he was ready for the next throw. I reached my hand down, waiting for him to give me the toy. 10 seconds passed by, no toy. I looked down to see if he wanted me to throw it again. Then I saw the worst thing you can see if you own a pet.
Jefferson was near my ankle on top of his cow toy. His eyes were open and bugged out, his tongue sticking out of his mouth, and he had pooped himself (he never did that before). I started frantically screaming to Estelle and picked him up. He was cold. He was limp. I was afraid he was choking. I reached into his mouth but didn’t feel anything. His eyes had no life. Estelle took him from me and started compressing his chest. I tried calling for help. First I called 911, they said they can’t help with animals. I quickly googled the animal hospital and finally got someone on the emergency line. The person told me to keep compressing his chest and get him to them (about 20 minutes away). I looked at Estelle, she had the saddest look ever. She said it’s too late. We sat with him for another hour holding him and crying. Estelle went to clean up his poop in my office as I held my little baby dog for the last time. We were both covered in his poo; it was the foulest thing I ever smelled. I put him in his dog bed and wrapped him in his blanket. We then bundled him up. Estelle and I showered and changed clothes and sat on the couch, his little bundle on the bench across from us. He was gone. Everyone who knows better thinks he had a seizure or a stroke. Since he’s so little, it happened fast and just took him down. I never got a warning anything was wrong. He was here, then he was gone. Since it’s Christmas week, we can’t get him taken care of until Friday. For now he’s in a locked container on our outdoor patio. Nothing can get to him and it’s very cold so he’ll be ok. I’m going to have him cremated.
My little boy left me a much better man than he found me. I learned so much from him. Mostly I learned that our time here is precious. Dogs just don’t live as long as us, so I better understand his urgency and anxiety being away from me. He lived 10 wonderful years on this earth, most of it in our care. He was never cold, or hot, or hungry, or even the slightest bit uncomfortable. He had three beds and a couch to sleep on. We bought him the best food, paid for the best healthcare, and he had three different groomers in the span of a decade. He had friends all of his own. He had many humans and dogs and cats that loved him.
Jefferson also helped me manage my anxiety. I've spoken before about my struggles with panic attacks—episodes of existential dread that made me feel like I was dying. My sister April tells me I had them as a child, but I don't remember when they started. Over the years, I just coped with them, waiting for them to pass. Sometimes they were excruciatingly long, sometimes only a second or so, but they were frequent... until I got Jefferson. In the first few years with him, I noticed I was having fewer attacks. How can you fear death when you have a little bundle of endorphins running around your apartment or snuggling inside your shirt?
The most important lesson Jefferson taught me is that life amplifies life. We are here to support each other and make each other's lives better. We live, breathe, and succeed together. With therapy and training, I haven't had a panic attack in 2 1/2 years. This progress started with my boy; the greatest gift he leaves me with.
I also learned from Jefferson that nothing is more important than spending time with those you love. He would have been perfectly content living in a cardboard box as long as I was there with him. I'm going through all the stages of grief this week (it's the Wednesday after he passed). I still haven't told Linda—I don't want to ruin her Christmas. She asked me to send her pictures of Jefferson regularly, so I sent her my last picture of him about five hours before his passing. He looked so happy. He died playing, which he loved more than anything.
Cuddle and snuggle your pets everyone. Stop whatever you’re doing and give them your time right now. It’s all that matters to them. I often referred to Jefferson as my “adorable nuisance”. I would give ANYTHING to be “annoyed” by him again. I’ll never be over him, I know. I’ll always carry his love in my heart. I hope I get to see him again one day.
I am eternally in your debt, Jefferson.
Your dog dad, David
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