Jake
It’s quiet in our home today. I can’t remember the last time it was this quiet here.
We put Jake to sleep on Saturday. Jake was our 17-year old bichon. His cough was non stop, he was growing more incontinent and the vet said his kidneys were failing. It was time - his best days were definitely behind him.
My Mom rescued him from a party when he was 6 months old. She found him in a playpen filled with feces and without food or water. She pretended her daughter had always wanted a dog like that and convinced the owner to let her have him for me.
I never wanted a dog like Jake. He was a wimpy kind of dog: small, fru fru looking, and extremely timid. Since he had been abused, he was scared of everything. He shivered and wizzled whenever you picked him up. Despite not being my dream dog, I grew to love and respect him.
I soon learned too that he was a monster dog trapped in a small dog’s body. Jake had no fear and never seemed to be ashamed of any of the choices he made, no matter how much I hollered. And no matter how many brushes with death he had, he seemed he could never die. The staff at the vet’s office called him “energizer Jakie.” Bill jokes that in one of his operations after being mauled twice, Jake was given bionic body parts. Several times he should have died but Jake wasn’t ready.
Jake lived his life boldly and tenaciously. While he wasn’t the alpha male in our home (he and Bill spent the last 9 years trying to resolve their territory issues), Jake never failed as the alpha DOG. Our 4-legged friends respected Jake entirely, even though he was the smallest of them all. Between attacking Dalmatians, fierce bob cats, pounds of fudge, liquor filled cordials, jalapenos, road trips, hurricanes and the desert, Jake flourished. He was remarkably accommodating. He was happy wherever he was, especially if there was a stretch of land to run on. I love him so much for being so willing to be happy. He was a huge life force.
Jake was with me through my darkest hours, often sitting on my lap, licking my tears away. For 17 years of my life, he was often the only being who saw all of me. On all of my days for 17 years, he was there. I can’t say that about any person in my life. Jake was so special. He used to follow me everywhere - I always had a fan (everyone should.) In the last year or so, his devotion never waned but his energy sadly did.
I remember him hopping through the vineyard across from our place in Williamsburg, he was so full of spirit. I remember playing tag with him around my Dad’s garage. He’d chase me - yapping the whole way. I remember him bolting off as soon as I opened the door (house, apartment, or car) - what he was after, I was never quite sure, but he went as if it were the last mission in his life. His ambition and determination were enviable. This was one small dog that wouldn’t be stopped from having what he wanted.
We have several great memories of Jake and his resolve remains an inspiration. He worked hard to get his way but his way was to be pleased with the simplest things…things like baths, walks, teddy bears, soft pillows, any scrap of food, and a good game of tag. Jake’s way of life will forever be a reminder that life’s pleasures are everywhere - and all one needs to do to enjoy them - is simply to claim them.
We put Jake to sleep on Saturday. Jake was our 17-year old bichon. His cough was non stop, he was growing more incontinent and the vet said his kidneys were failing. It was time - his best days were definitely behind him.
My Mom rescued him from a party when he was 6 months old. She found him in a playpen filled with feces and without food or water. She pretended her daughter had always wanted a dog like that and convinced the owner to let her have him for me.
I never wanted a dog like Jake. He was a wimpy kind of dog: small, fru fru looking, and extremely timid. Since he had been abused, he was scared of everything. He shivered and wizzled whenever you picked him up. Despite not being my dream dog, I grew to love and respect him.
I soon learned too that he was a monster dog trapped in a small dog’s body. Jake had no fear and never seemed to be ashamed of any of the choices he made, no matter how much I hollered. And no matter how many brushes with death he had, he seemed he could never die. The staff at the vet’s office called him “energizer Jakie.” Bill jokes that in one of his operations after being mauled twice, Jake was given bionic body parts. Several times he should have died but Jake wasn’t ready.
Jake lived his life boldly and tenaciously. While he wasn’t the alpha male in our home (he and Bill spent the last 9 years trying to resolve their territory issues), Jake never failed as the alpha DOG. Our 4-legged friends respected Jake entirely, even though he was the smallest of them all. Between attacking Dalmatians, fierce bob cats, pounds of fudge, liquor filled cordials, jalapenos, road trips, hurricanes and the desert, Jake flourished. He was remarkably accommodating. He was happy wherever he was, especially if there was a stretch of land to run on. I love him so much for being so willing to be happy. He was a huge life force.
Jake was with me through my darkest hours, often sitting on my lap, licking my tears away. For 17 years of my life, he was often the only being who saw all of me. On all of my days for 17 years, he was there. I can’t say that about any person in my life. Jake was so special. He used to follow me everywhere - I always had a fan (everyone should.) In the last year or so, his devotion never waned but his energy sadly did.
I remember him hopping through the vineyard across from our place in Williamsburg, he was so full of spirit. I remember playing tag with him around my Dad’s garage. He’d chase me - yapping the whole way. I remember him bolting off as soon as I opened the door (house, apartment, or car) - what he was after, I was never quite sure, but he went as if it were the last mission in his life. His ambition and determination were enviable. This was one small dog that wouldn’t be stopped from having what he wanted.
We have several great memories of Jake and his resolve remains an inspiration. He worked hard to get his way but his way was to be pleased with the simplest things…things like baths, walks, teddy bears, soft pillows, any scrap of food, and a good game of tag. Jake’s way of life will forever be a reminder that life’s pleasures are everywhere - and all one needs to do to enjoy them - is simply to claim them.