Jim, my partner in life and dog obsession, handed me his phone the moment I walked in the door from work. “Look,” he said with a smile, “I had a helper today.”
The phone screen revealed a series of dog photos, up close and personal—a snout I immediately recognized as belonging to our young dog, Tag. Now, these photos would have zero meaning for anyone else beyond being funny doggy snoot shots. But I was immediately transported back nearly 16 years earlier.
I had walked into the kitchen to find Jim lying on the floor, half inside the cabinet under our kitchen sink doing a little work on the plumbing. Four-month-old Howie had dutifully planted himself on Jim’s chest to “help” with the repairs as only a puppy can.
And today, here was Tag repeating the same silly stunt. We might have laughed it off as a random coincidence, but we both knew there was nothing random about it.
To understand what I can only describe as a feat of canine magic, we have to turn the calendar back to January of 2022. My heart and soul dog, Howie, was on course to see his 16th birthday. While he had always been a healthy dog, his advanced years were finally catching up with him. I knew we were facing his final birthday celebration. I think he knew it too.
Tag was part of a litter of puppies we had been fostering for our rescue, the Dalmatian Assistance League. Our little spotted charges were now old enough to start heading off to permanent homes, but Tag, at the height of puppy cuteness and energy, had somehow yet to find a new family.
As with all our foster dogs, Tag was treated as part of our family. He was free to roam the house and yard, free to play with our other dogs, free to avoid our grumpier dogs. Howie generally fell in that latter category.
Well, grumpy isn’t a fair adjective. Howie just never had any use or affection for puppies. He was a dignified, stoic dog who was more devoted to his humans than to the frivolity of playing with the other dogs. He was the boss dog of the canine clan, the supervisor instead of a participant.
But that changed with Tag. As Tag gained freedom from his puppy playpen, he seemed to consistently gravitate to Howie. Howie, historically the one to meet puppy attention with a toothy warning, chose to tolerate attention from this spotted youngster.
Often, Jim and I would find Tag snuggled against Howie for a nap. Or Tag would use Howie as his personal jungle gym, climbing on the senior dog’s back, tumbling under his neck, or pouncing on his tail. Tag viewed the harness Howie wore for mobility assistance as his personal chew toy. He would invite himself to share Howie’s special bed. He would even bring toys to share with his old friend.
We watched their relationship blossom as the puppy continued to charm the gruff old man. Autumn and spring came together to form an unlikely, but undeniable bond.
Time marched along. On April 5, 2022, we happily celebrated Howie’s 16th birthday. On May 20, 2022, we lovingly eased Howie out of the body that was no longer cooperating.
You might think this is where the story of Howie and Tag ends. You would be wrong. Delightfully, magically wrong.
Immediately following Howie’s passing, Tag claimed the old dog’s position on the bed, sleeping snuggled against my legs and feet. Now you might think he was just taking over a vacated, comfy position, but Howie never slept on the bed with me during Tag’s little lifetime. With his declining mobility, I worried that Howie might fall off the bed during the night. Months earlier I helped him transition from his life-long place alongside me, to a new sleeping spot on a soft cushion beside the bed. Tag had never slept at my feet while Howie was still alive, preferring instead to sprawl out across the middle of the bed.
And then came the day I walked into our dog room to find that Tag had hopped on top of the bin where I store our dog food. Seeing him standing there, looking at me very expectantly, stopped me in my tracks. This was the place where Howie had decided, of his own accord, to eat all his meals for most of his life until the two-foot leap became too high for old joints to manage. This tradition was uniquely Howie’s and had also come to a halt well before Tag was even born.
He had seen no demonstration; he had no teacher. Yet, there he stood. Howie’s spot was now shared by Tag.
The Howie-isms that Tag seemed to have somehow inherited continued. I would find him waiting for me, curled on the bathmat outside the shower, just as Howie had. I would pull into our long driveway to see a familiar spotted face watching me from the backyard. It was always a comfort to see Howie there to welcome me, instinctively knowing when I would pull through the gate. Now it was Tag turning to race through the dog door to be the first to greet me at the front door.
And then Tag stood atop Jim as he did repairs beneath the kitchen sink, just as Howie had so many years before.
Maybe it can all be explained away as coincidence. After all, the two dogs are very different in every other way. Howie was reserved and even in puppyhood, a bit of a serious soul. He was my protector, dignified and steady, only revealing his soft side to a select few humans.
Tag, on the other hand, has a huge personality. He is silly, playful, and mischievous. He’s a bit of a handful, but in a delightfully innocent manner. And he has a sense of humor that keeps us laughing and guessing what his next antic will bring.
What I love to believe about Tag’s knack for knowing Howie-isms is that during their time together, during all of those shared snuggles, the old dog was quietly instructing the puppy.
“Look kid,” Howie would say in a patient voice, “I don’t have much time left here and I need you to take over a job for me—our human over there, she’s going to need you.”
I imagine the adorable puppy cocking his head in that cute back and forth cadence as he listened carefully to Howie’s instructions. “Don’t try to be me, just remind her of me. Let her know I picked you to carry on where I must leave off.”
And that is exactly what Tag has done. The little familiar behaviors that surface here and there to give my heart a warm squeeze remind me that Howie took care of me one last time by picking out a puppy to carry on his important work. There is nothing I love more than drifting off to sleep with that familiar, secure warmth against my feet that will now provide comfort for so many more years to come.
And if you wonder about the origin of Tag’s name, well, that’s Howie’s doing too—Tag, you’re it. Thanks Howie, you taught him very well.
tales you win 