Tiny

There were dozens of dogs who lived with us on Eagle Street over the decades. The alpha dog, and the one who was with us the longest, was a little mutt named Tiny.

Mom had recently suffered the loss of her stillborn son Jody Jim in March, 1959.  The traumatic event left her permanently damaged, both physically and emotionally.  She was no longer able to get pregnant due to the birth injury.  She was likely very hormonal and down in the dumps.  As we all know, there is nothing as therapeutic as a new puppy.  Right around the same time the Warriners were mourning the death of what appeared to be their final child, a litter of puppies was born somewhere in San Diego. Six weeks later,  Mom and Lynda went to take a look at them, and couldn't resist bringing one puppy home. 

Tiny was a small dog.  Mostly white, with tan ears and a round tan spot on the base of her spine, she stood about 13" tall and had a plumed tail that curled up over her back.  Mom said she was a mix of many things, but mostly Poodle, Spitz, and "toy Collie."

Lynda and Puppy Tiny play Tug-o-war on Eagle Street

Tiny was a very smart dog.  She was housebroken within a week.  She would go to the front door and sit down, and that's how you knew she needed to go out.  She never needed a leash, either.  You just let her out, she would do her business, and come right back inside.  Tiny was patient with children and loved everyone in the family.

Tiny is right there welcoming Grand Baby Cathy into the family in early 1960

Tammy and Tiny in the wagon pulled by Darwin, 1963

Tiny and Collette taking a bike ride with Tammy, 1970

Mom believed that everyone living in the house needed to somehow earn their keep.  That included the pets.   Tiny was definitely a mongrel, and there was no way she could be mistaken for any of the purebreds that made up her genetic pedigree.  But Mom soon discovered that if Tiny was bred to a purebred, the resulting puppies would more often than not look just like their sire.

Mom bred Tiny to a silver Toy Poodle from championship bloodlines.  The resulting litter consisted of 3 curly-coated black puppies that started turning silver as their fur grew longer, and one rare pup that was born silver, which almost never happens with purebred Poodles.  These puppies grew into beautiful Poodle-type puppies and they sold out immediately.

Happy customer Sophie with Herkimer, a rare born-silver Poodle pup from Tiny

A breeding to a long-haired cream-colored Lhasa Apso resulted in shaggy Lhasa lookalikes.

Tiny's first litter from a Lhasa Apso father

Here they are at 6 weeks with Darwin

When bred to a tan Chihuahua, the puppies were tiny, shorthaired and tan, with round heads and short muzzles, just like their sire.

Chance encounter on a city street with Pedro and 63 days later, Chihuahua puppies!

After the despised next door neighbor's dachshund, Hansel, paid a clandestine visit, Tiny gave birth to two dark brown puppies with long bodies, short legs, and floppy ears. And even though the neighbor huffed and puffed that her Hansel would never even cast a glance at our dog, there was no denying that the little Doxie lookalikes were indeed Hansel's pups. Mom hated Hansel's owner so much that she didn't take a photo of the two Dachshund puppies before selling them.


Tiny's final litter was a single surprise puppy, born long after a dog is ever expected to be able to reproduce.  We never knew who this puppy's father was, but because he had the same coloring as a St. Bernard, Mom advertised him as a "Toy St Bernard," and we could have sold dozens of them.

Nopey was Tiny's final puppy, born in 1970.  We wanted to keep him, but Dad said no.

Tiny had a false pregnancy one year, which enabled her to raise an orphaned Manx kitten which turned out to be our family cat Fudder.

Tiny and her kitten Fudder, 1963

Tiny loved other animal babies too.  She tried to help Collette with her big litter of six, but it was Fudder who ended up raising the two runts from that litter.

Right after this was snapped, Fudder came to the bed and took the tiniest puppy.

Tiny really loved Dad.  When he was relaxing in his La-Z-Boy with a drink and his pipe, Tiny was usually right there with him.

The usual scene when Dad got home from work, this was in 1971, Dad's final year of life.

In 1969, Mom came home with a mother and daughter silver Poodle duo, Tiny was not amused at all.  She had no problem accepting the calm and submissive daughter, Collette.  But with the mother Poodle, Musette, it was an entirely different story.  Both dogs hated each other and would fight whenever they were in the same room.

 Mom consulted Tiny's veterinarian, who suggested muzzling them and letting them work it out without being able to bite each other.  He hoped that they would eventually make peace with each other.  The two dogs were muzzled and the fighting began.  The dogs sparred until they were drooling and gasping, but they would not stop trying to kill each other. 

Tiny hated Musette, and after this failed attempt, Musette went to a new home

The vet's idea was a failure and Mom quickly found another home for Musette. After Dad died, and Mom started collecting dozens of Poodles, Tiny accepted every single one of them. 

Tiny, Collette, Gidget, Samson and Suzy with Tammy, 1971

When Mom bought an electric dog hair clipper and a grooming book, she experimented on Collette and even on poor Tiny, who did not need to be clipped, but got a Lion trim anyhow.

Tiny, Fudder and Collette with Jeff in 1969. Mom's first try at dog grooming. I didn't think Tiny's brown spot would ever grow back, but it did.

At Christmas time, Mom would hang little cocktail hotdogs on the bottom branches of our Christmas tree, then call Tiny and Collette over  so they could find their treats.

Once the gifts were opened, the dogs could find their treats on the tree.

Tiny came to Eagle Street during a time of great sorrow.  She cheered Mom up and nudged her out of her postpartum sadness.  She was a great watchdog.  She raised an orphaned kitten. She accepted everyone into the family except Musette.  Her puppies were a source of income.  She was there when the three youngest kids were introduced to the family.  She was also there when the ambulance came to take dad away after he died in his yellow chair early one morning.  

In 1974, Tiny suddenly suffered a stroke and couldn't walk.  Mom called Darwin and asked him to take Tiny to the vet to be put to sleep.  She lived 15 good years, had healthy hybrid vigor, and stayed perky until the very end. Tiny was one of a kind. She was the most beloved dog that ever lived with us on Eagle Street.