Remembering Raven and Tyson

Raven

Tyson

We’re going to be honest. It’s been a tough couple of weeks at the Senior Dog Sanctuary of Maryland. We know that sometimes happens, and we need to roll with the punches, but it’s so hard to lose a dog, and we’ve had to say goodbye to two of our sanctuary pups. Raven and Tyson, this one’s for you.

Raven, you were complicated, but man, we loved you! Raven came to us in July 2020 but was adopted two months later. She lived there happily until March 2022, when a biting incident forced her family to return her to SDS. It’s sad when it happens, but we are blessed to be able to take the dogs and help them once again. We believe that sometimes dogs need more than one chance, especially when life has dealt them a tough hand. Raven needed us again, and we needed her, too.

She had a smile that urged you to cuddle but could snarl in the same fashion to remind you she needed her space sometimes. We appreciate both sentiments because we humans have the same mood swings. For the most part, the snarl came with her protective nature of wanting to defend her humans, a common trait for a loyal dog. They sense more than we do, which makes them so special. Unfortunately, sometimes, they only know how to respond with a snarl or a growl when they sense danger for their humans. Raven wanted those she loved, her sanctuary family, to be safe and would see to that at all costs.

As she continued life as a sanctuary pup, arthritis began to show its colors, but Raven still maintained her walks with our gracious volunteers. One of our incredible staff members even built a ramp for her known as the “Raven Ramp” since the stairs were becoming too hard for her. It wasn’t until about six months ago, when her liver started to fail, that we knew her trip over the rainbow bridge was coming. While senior dogs can rapidly deteriorate, our Raven wanted to hang on for a bit. We like to think she needed to protect us for a little longer.

Raven continued to love all of the littles at the sanctuary. If you were a little dog, she was your immediate buddy whether the littles liked it or not. You’d often find her on a walk with up to four or five little dogs, loving every minute. As she got more ill, staff members and volunteers brought her burgers and pit beef, which she would gobble down with delight. When the burgers weren’t eaten anymore, we knew her time had come.

To Raven, our complex girl, you brought a spark to the sanctuary we won’t forget. We were your forever and proud to be. Rest easy now, sweet girl. The littles will look for you, but we’ll remind them you’re still watching out for them.

Tyson, you may have been one of the laziest dogs we have ever had. Seeing you lounging on a chair or slowly walking around the sanctuary yard made us smile and feel a bit jealous. We wish we could be lazy, laid back, and just do life like you did. Moving from one place to another when the urge came and lying down next to a volunteer to get an epic belly rub is what you did, and you loved every minute of it.

This pup came to us again in September 2023 after a family who had adopted him could no longer care for him. We welcomed him back like an old friend, and he settled back into life at the sanctuary. He wouldn’t want us to brag, but he did have his acting debut on our “Good Morning America” segment back in the fall. He trod around the yard as only Tyson knew how and thought, “Get my good side, folks.” He was impossible not to love.

Tyson found his friends in the other large dogs at the sanctuary. Some of his best buds were Klink, a massive Rottweiler mix, and Mr. Wilson, a large German short-haired pointer. They often lounged around together in what we liked to call The Bachelor’s Pad, where only the bigs could hang. Klink and Mr. Wilson helped Tyson find the young pup buried within as he got a spunk in his step whenever his besties were around him. It made him forget to act like an old man.

For Tyson, he wasn’t in pain long. We noticed him not feeling himself one day, and the next day, internal bleeding forced us to make a swift decision to cross the rainbow bridge. While a shock to us all, we think he wasn’t suffering. One day, he was walking around and sniffing lazily around the yard, and the next day, he looked at us and said, “It’s time to let me go.” It hurts, but we understand, sweet boy.

Tyson, Mr. Wilson is lost without you. Bring him some comfort that you are now OK over the rainbow bridge. You’re not running as that’s too strenuous. You’re strolling like always, enjoying the fresh air and occasionally lounging around with the big dogs. It’s the life you knew and were good at living. We understand you’re okay now, friend. We’ll be OK, too.