So our beloved Tinker dog died last night. He had some sort of stroke and we felt it would be cruel to keep him going any longer. He was at least 17 and had been our furry companion for the past 10 and a half years. So what did Tinks teach us? Plenty. Before he started to show obvious signs of ageing in recent years, he had the stubborn determination of a bull. He was a tiny little short-legged, long bodied “Jack-sausage”, as we called him, or I’m sure he preferred “the limousine of Jack Russells”. With his marvellous personality and independent streak, he wasn’t afraid of anything. Big dogs, small dogs, vacuum cleaners – he’d take them all on at once, if he had to.
But Tinker’s first love was digging, something he did relentlessly and with gusto, for the majority of his life. Although he was quite happy just digging his bed, his dreams came true when Neil bought a small woodland with a meadow in North Devon. Tinker was in doggie heaven digging all day long, showering the rest of us in earth. He excavated large trenches all over the place. Many of which we nearly twisted our ankles falling down, but that was all part of Tinker’s charm. When he dug the whole world disappeared. He loved digging so much he didn’t care what he created, as far as we could tell, anyway. He just dug for the sake of digging. And that’s a great lesson for me and anyone else looking to achieve an ambitious goal and at times feeling lost or overwhelmed in the process, striving and hoping that one day you’ll finally make it.
Well, I for one, know I need to take a leaf out of Tinker’s book and just do what I love because I love it and not because of any great goal or recognition I might receive at the end. Tinker was extremely fit as a result of all his digging and he even had some muscle tone left in his front legs until his final day, despite not having dug properly for the past three or so years. And I think the residue of doing what we love stays with us too, even if it’s only the subtle but unmistakable glow of a life well lived. Those precious times, they stay with us forever, just like our memories of Tinker.
Getting mucky: picture taken in March of last year when Tinks was still joining us on long country walks.
So that was a little window into Tinker’s extraordinary life and what he taught me. As for his soul, I think my four-year-old summed it up perfectly when he said, “Mummy, Tinker’s dreaming of running around and digging now.”
Rest in peace, my darling little Tinks, rest in peace.
The Philospiritual Musings of Zoë Basil 
So sorry Zoe. Goodbye little Tink, happy diggings xx
Thank you, Lisa.
So sorry, to read of your loss, Zoe. This brought a tear to my eye. Although you are grieving for the loss of a member of your ‘family’, it’s wonderful to think that Tinker’s approach, as you’ve described, has provided such an important message for living for us all, as well as the personal enjoyment he so obviously brought to you and your family. Thanks for sharing memories of your beloved loved pet . Take care. x
Thank you Heyddir, I really appreciate your comment. We had decided not to get another dog after Tinker, but we have now rescued a friend’s border terrier, who we know well, from having to be rehomed with strangers, so I’m looking forward to some female company (in a house of two boys and my husband) and wondering what the lovely Pippa will be able to teach me xx