My Pack -- Tiger

My first dog pack member -- and most influential in my life -- is Tiger.  Tiger was a stray that came to our house when I was about eight or nine years old.  Thankfully we were able to keep him.  Tiger was definitely my best friend and therapist when I needed to talk to someone about my childhood problems and frustrations.  I could always go to him when I was having a bad day.  He was always a good listener and always gave me unconditional love.

Tiger was a big part of my childhood.  As I said, we got him when I was eight or nine years old -- I think around 1979.  Or thereabouts.  And we had him until I was grown and gone from the house.

Tiger was a kind, gentle, loving dog.  He was the perfect companion for a kid growing up.  I have many memories of riding in the back of Dad's 1950 Chevy pickup truck with Tiger (and Lisa).  Those were the days!  It's a shame you can't do that anymore because those are some of my fondest childhood memories with Tiger.

Tiger was also quite the ladies charmer.  A regular Rico Suave.  He was the neighborhood ladies man.  He was known to occasionally run off and jump six-foot fences to visit a lady.  Tiger fathered one litter of puppies that we know of.  We were lucky enough to meet his puppies after they were born.  We named one of them Tigaro Juñero.  I always wished we could've kept one of them.

One day a big pretty white fluffy dog walked by and I called her Lola.  From then on I would always ask Tiger, "Where's Lola?"  Tiger was quite the character.

We are not sure how old Tiger was when we got him.  He was full grown though, so we thought he was probably around a year old.  Tiger died in 1991 at approximately 13 years of age.  I was with him when he died.  It was hard.  RIP my friend.  

We are not sure which breeds Tiger was a mix of.  We think perhaps a cross between a Collie and Australian Shepherd.  Regardless of what breed he was, he was a beautiful dog.  No wonder the ladies were drawn to him.  :-)

The above photo was taken in Tiger's older years.  After we moved back to 192.

Looking out of his doghouse.

A stately boy.

Chewing on a bone.

Eating a meaty bone at 852.  My parents kept the yard immaculate.  The grass looks fake, but it's real.

Chewing on a bone at 192.

A happy, majestic boy at 852.

I think this is me putting a wig on Tiger's head.  He doesn't look too thrilled.

A familiar sight.  Tiger in the back of Dad's 1950 Chevy truck.  As I said, I have many fond childhood memories of riding in the back of this truck with Tiger.

852.  Tiger by his doghouse.

Tiger spent a lot of time sniffing this radiator and trying to get a mouse (or something) out of it.  I guess it gave him a good "job" to keep him busy.

Tiger, meaty bone, and Dad at 852.

Tiger at 852 in Orem, Utah.  Dad reading a newspaper in the background.  Early 1980s.

Michael and Tiger in Salem, Utah.  Summer 1986

Tiger in the front yard in Salem.  1986

Shaking after a bath.  852.

Tiger peeking around the corner at 192.

Getting a Rawhide bone for Christmas.

Dad giving Tiger a milk bone at 192.

Hunting that pesky mouse.  192

Tiger doing party stance to me and my cousin, Preston.  192.  Late 1980s.

Tiger and Dad in the living room and at 852.

Can you spot Tiger?  He is sitting by his truck.  192.  Orem Utah.

Tiger wearing one of Dad's welding hats. Dad holding Tiger.

Tiger looks ticked.  This picture is funny with Michael and Tiger only showing one eye.  We took Tiger on a trip to California with us once.  I'm not sure if this photo is of that time, but it was cramped and long and Tiger had a gutful.

Shaking hands.  Tiger was very polite and often shook hands with people.

Tiger and the green truck.  They go together like peanut butter and jelly.  192.
 

Tiger in the back of the truck in the garage at 852.

I'm going to have to do a part two because this is getting too long and there are still more pictures I want to add.  So this post is to be continued...