Once when I was a little girl and we didn't really get along, a huge pit bull that lived behind our backyard jumped the fence while I was raking the leaves. It was autumn and raking the leaves was my favorite. The colors of the leaves are a beauty that grace Florida late into the season. Screaming and frozen from fear of the ferocious dog I was always apprehensive of, I remember only two flashes of color: black and white. This little chihuahua puppy ran between us, barking and growling, showing her sharp little teeth. This little chihuahua puppy that fit in the palms of my child-hands, she frightened that large pit bull that was larger than my seven years.
Tripi scared that pit bull so much, just by showing her spunk, he kept himself backed up in a corner, tail between his legs while we had to call the neighbor to get him back.
|She must have been about 4 here, I was in 6th grade. Along with my old parakeets.|
|On her 13th birthday|
Little Tripi emitted this large, courageous spirit throughout her life. She "rescued" my mom in a similar way (although, in the other dogs' defense, they came in peace). Tripi has been a little hero and loyal companion.
I think that what we will all miss most is coming home to this lovable face looking up at you. The way she would "talk" to us when we got home, jump up and scratch at our legs, always excited to see you home, and never letting it go unnoticed that you're finally back after being away for anywhere from days, hours, minutes, even just seconds. She was always glad to see you walk through that door again.
|Two years ago|
When I open the door to her room now, she won't be there. But another door opened when she left today, a door in my heart where she will always stay.
Tripi had a severe uterine infection that was only curable through a surgery she most likely would not have survived. Other odds were against her and we couldn't let her continue to suffer so we put her down. While checking her the vet said her heart was strong, something incredible in a such a small dog at her age.
My heart will remain strong for you, my little baby girl.
Tripita Linda Lorenzo
(Aug. 1, 1997 - Oct. 17, 2011)