August 14, 2026

Tani

Tani is small dog. Chihuahua I assume. I met him 4 weeks ago when I moved in. A week ago he got diagnosed with a “bunch of tumors in the lungs”. The vet apparently said he had little time left with us. Pete handled it like Pete. “He had a good life, it’s going to be harder for me”. Tani is missing an eye from an infection a few months ago. His opposite-side ear is all shriveled up. “He is probably in a good amount of pain, but he is a trooper”. I never heard him bark or beg.

Pete has lived through many losses. His old friends, as he calls them, are buried in the backyard. The house is named after one of them. Pete is remarkably healthy for an 80 year old man. He feeds his small dog potatoes and egg every morning. The mixture looks like one of my go-to student meals (potato omelette). Pete’s diet deserves a post of its own. He treats everyone the same, starting with himself. Zero shits. Potatoes and bread all day. Some days he sounds like he can’t believe he is still around. He also sometimes looks like he is genuinely having a blast. He uses the term bitchin’ too much for my taste, I guess it’s a generation thing.

2 weeks ago Pete dragged the dogs up the big hill behind the house for an event. The 2 small dogs struggled. He had their favorite cushion ready at the top. Tani looked in bad shape. Very noticeably. He chilled around and crashed a few picnics, wherever a human or a blanket would welcome him.

Since the diagnosis and the pain meds he is even more mellow. I see him sitting quietly with discomfort. He made me wonder how to offer comfort without expecting gratitude, how to respect the dignity of a creature who is having trouble but still fighting. Every cough seems more painful than the previous. His jaw tightens. His head tilts like a broken doll. That says “Fuck, dude, this shit hurts, kill me now”. Bodies communicate constantly.

Today I almost stepped on him as I was getting out of the shower. After dancing around for a few seconds trying to get away from each other, he looked at me unfazed. In that instant, I saw so much in his single eyeball.