The story of Sassy begins when I looked around at my life and realized my home would soon be much too quiet. It was 2005. My son, Ryan, had already moved out on his own. My daughter, Tyler, was in her last two years of high school. I faced being alone. So, I came up with a plan. I would search for a yorkshire terrier with just the personality I wanted and bring her home. I did my research and even drove out to my home town of Trenton to visit my dear friend, Linda Lord McElroy. Linda had a yorkie, and visiting her in person confirmed my plan. This was so important to me. It had to be just right. I wanted a yorkie who was extremely smart, very strong and independent and super spunky, but at the same time, I wanted her to be loyal, loving and sweet. That was Sass. Seven pounds of strength, spunk and sweetness.

MOTFA. Do NOT use the ‘D’ word.

If you look at Sassy’s pedigree, it shows her real name is actually Sassafras. We rarely called her that. It was usually Sassy or just Sass. What we never ever called her was a ‘dog.’ That was absolutely forbidden. My family and friends all understood Sassy was a MOTFA – which stands for Member of the Family. I even shared this with strangers who would admire her and tell me my ‘dog’ was so beautiful. I thanked them and then set them straight. There were a few other vocabulary rules for Sassy. We did not say ‘fur.’ Sassy had beautiful hair. We did not say ‘paws.’ Sassy had hands and feet. (Please see handprints below from her first doctor visit. We also did not say ‘vet.’)

Treats, Fashion, Traveling and that Hairdo

Some things Sassy loved and other things not so much. She loved to eat! Keeping Sass at a good, healthy weight was not easy. She always wanted one more treat. When I did not comply with her demands for more, she let me know in a variety of ways that she was not happy with me. Sassy had her own entire drawer of clothing, but she was unlike me in this area. Fashion was not her thing. Most of what I bought for her she never wore. She would tolerate bandanas, and she would proudly wear her Gator jersey.

On a cold winter day, she appreciated her pink bone turtleneck. In direct contrast to her distaste for clothes, Sassy loved to travel. When she knew she was going in the car with me somewhere, she would bounce up and down and spin in circles. She would stare out the window as we drove along. She loved to go places.

Typically, we think of Yorkshire terriers with that very long hair brushed out smoothly reaching all the way to the floor. That really did not work for Sassy. She loved to roll around all over the place playing, and her hair would get in knots that could not even be brushed out. One day, I took her to get a new and much shorter haircut. When I got home, I asked my daughter what she thought. Tyler said, “Well Mom, now she looks just like you.” I had to admit Tyler was right. My little friend and I looked alike.

A Difficult Diagnosis

As the years went by, Sass and I moved from Jacksonville to Gainesville in 2009. In 2017, we returned home to Jacksonville. It was shortly before the move back that I noticed Sass had begun to cough a lot. I worried about the possibility of a collapsing trachea, something Yorkies are prone to, even if they have always worn a harness rather than a collar. A visit to her doctor confirmed this, but it was even worse than I thought. Sassy had congestive heart failure. Her disease was severe. It didn’t matter that she looked so perfect on the outside. She was terribly sick inside. But with the help of medicine and Sassy’s strength and spunk, she kept going. Sassy was still Sassy. I tried hard not to think too much about the days ahead. On March 15, 2019, our entire family gathered to celebrate her birthday. We always had a party for her. This was her 14th birthday. It would be her last.

April 9, 2019

I knew Sassy did not feel very well on this day. She would not eat her breakfast. She coughed a lot. She seemed very tired. When I returned home from a work event downtown, I knew she felt much worse. Her labored breathing made that clear. As we drove to her doctor, she lay on her side and stared up at me. I caressed her as we drove and told her how much I loved her. The doctor confirmed her condition was now critical, and he gave me time to consider what to do. It was one of the hardest things I have ever done in my life, but I did not want my Sass to suffer anymore. I decided it was time to let my best friend go. The staff at San Juan Animal Hospital were wonderful. They gave me all the time I wanted so I could talk with Sassy and hold her. When they asked me if I wanted to be present when they gave her the medication that would take her away, I told them I did and that I wanted to hold her if they would let me. They said they would. And I did.

What now?

I feel Sassy is still with me. I feel her everywhere. When I am sleeping, I can feel her snuggled up against me. When the house makes a noise, it sounds like she is coming to find me. Her beds and toys are still in their places, and so are pictures of her. When I am out in my gardens, I feel her close by me sniffing around exploring and relaxing in an Adirondack chair watching me work. This feeling is so strong, and it comforts me.

The day after Sassy passed away, I shared with my friend, Jane, how my heart feels broken. Jane reassured me and told me, “Pamela, you know that dogs can go to heaven, so Sassy will be waiting for you.” I pointed out, of course, that Sassy was not a dog. But if dogs can go to heaven, surely a MOTFA can, right? So, I think of her waiting for me one day. I think she will be wearing her purple bandana because purple was Sassy’s best color.

Thanks and Beautiful Words

I thank my family and friends with all my heart for loving Sassy and for comforting me after her passing. And I thank the doctors and staff of San Juan Animal Hospital for the care they gave to Sassy all her life and for the message they mailed to me after her passing. I leave you with the words of the poem that was inside the card they sent to me. I hope that others who face the difficult decision that I did may read it and find the comfort it gave to me.

“Today you did the bravest thing, today you set me free. Thank you for showing me the ultimate dignity. I’m sorry that my leaving has broken your kind heart. But we knew this day would come, the day we had to part. Don’t think I did not hear every last word you said. Don’t think I did not feel your trembling hand touch my head. Today you did the bravest thing. Today you set me free. Thank you for a wonderful life. Thank you for loving me.”

My mom with Sassy at her home in Trenton, Florida. Thank you to my Mom and my "Doway" for the gift of Sassy.