Thursday, January 10, 2008

R.I.P. Jake


Hours ago, one of the best friends I have ever had in my life died in my arms. He was my dog Jake. After watching him suffer from heart failure and dementia in addition to the usual problems associated with old age (he was 14 years old), we were simply waiting for Jake to tell us when he was ready to go. This afternoon he did just that. When Alex and I got home from school, Jake didn't get out of his bed to greet us. Even when I pleaded with him to get up, he just lay in his bed, which he had soiled sometime during the day. Eventually he staggered to his feet but seemed oblivious to our presence. I picked him up and set him on my lap while Alex and I talked about what we needed to do. When Bethany came home, everyone told Jake goodbye and I took him to our vet. The details of Jake's final moments are mine alone to know.


When I got back home I gave my family big hugs and kisses and then ventured out into our woods- shovel in hand. I picked out a nice clearing in the trees and began to dig. While I labored away, I recalled many memories of my little buddy. We adopted Jake at the Muncie Indiana animal shelter in February 1998. Bethany had just taken her first 13 week assignment as a "travelling"occupational therapist- her first job out of college. She worked at a very poorly run nursing home that literally drained the spirit from her. She came home crying regularly and I felt powerless to help. As Valentine's Day appoached, I had the idea to get a puppy to help keep Bethany's mind off her troubles at work and give her something positive to focus on in her life. When I arrived at the shelter all of the male dogs were in one pen, all the females in another. A precoius female beagle caught my eye, but I thought I should look at the males too, just in case. A throng of dogs greeted me at the fence- barking, jumping up, trying to lick my fingers. I peered through the crowd and spotted a very sad looking dog in the far corner of the pen standing all alone with his head down. I called to him and he started to take a step toward me, only to be turned back by the larger, more aggressive dogs. He managed to make eye contact though, and in that instant he asked me in his own pathetic way to get him the hell outta there. I knew right then that I had found my dog. I went inside and asked about him and the sole employee told me I would have to wait another day before I could take him because they wanted to give his owner a chance to claim him (he was found as a run-away.) Well, because I was there on a Friday, the "one more day" was a Saturday and then they would be closed on Sunday. So I agonized all weekend knowing that my dog was absolutely miserable waiting for me to save him. I came back Monday morning at opening time. The lady at the shelter apologized for making me wait an extra day to adopt him. She felt so guilty that she actually waived the adoption fee. Before I knew it, my new dog was at the end of a leash, walking straight into my heart. It would take Bethany a little while longer to warm up to Jake, but not too long. Afterall, he was a handsome little devil. But at the initial vet visit, our free dog became a $300 dog thanks to a bad case of heartworms. His liver suffered some damage as a result and so the vet joked that this Joliet Jake Blues (as his full name was) should refrain from drinking any beer. "Bummer," I thought. Soon enough, Jake was feeling healthy and happy and we became fast friends while spending our days together waiting for Bethany to come home from work each evening.


Our friendship lasted 10 great years. But Jake was more than a friend, he was like a child to Bethany and I. Having a dog really is good practice for prospective parents. We had Jake in our lives for nearly three years before Alex was born, so he really was our baby. And we made lots of good memories together. The best part is that he lived seven more years after Alex was born, allowing Alex to bond with him, too. Being an only child, Alex has always referred to Jake as his big brother. In fact, Alex used to lick his own "paws" while Jake sat beside him and cleaned his. On several occasions, I caught the human child eating the canine child's Milkbones. Once, I even caught Alex eating kibble right out of Jake's bowl. Brothers they were.


I have many, many Jake stories. Maybe I'll write about some more of them when I feel up to it. For now, I can't type anymore- much less talk about Jake without completely falling apart. If you read this and want to call to express your condolences, please wait a few days or just post a message on this blog. It is amazing to me how much I miss my friend already. The pain in my lower back and in my hands from digging Jake's grave don't come close to the pain I feel in my heart right now. How is it possible to love a dog so much?


I will love you and miss you and remember you forever, old pal. Good-bye, Jakey-Boy.

9 comments:

Anonymous said...

We all loved Jake like a brother, son, grandson. This dod had more personality than any six other dogs. He demamnded very little, entertained us all on a daily basis - like burying invisible bones in invisible dirt and then lay down a snuggle with you like a pro.He will definitly be missed by anyone who knew him. But I'm convinved he had finished his work on theis plain and and has gone on to spread only his kind of joy.

Think positive thoughts for Jake and his human counterparts, he willbe missed.

Anonymous said...

I am typing this with tears running down my cheeks. I knew it was time, but I will miss my "granddog". It brings back memories of Kelly's dog Prince, a terrier/beagle, who somehow was injured and I had to take him to the vet to be put to sleep. Like Jake he was a sweety. He slept curled up with our cats, shared his food with our pet pig, never had an unkind bark for anyone, and never asked for anything but an occasional pat on the head. We can learn a lot about how to live life from a good dog. The unconditional love Jake gave us will be missed but his spirit and the joy he gave us will be part of our lives forever.

Anonymous said...

Dewey, Meredith, and I send condolences from our broken hearts in Baltimore. We're thankful we were able to enjoy a final week with Jake in December. He was adorable and loving and will be sorely missed.

A rough month for the Hartsburg menagerie, losing Bella as well, so big hugs from all of us.

TheNotQuiteRightReverend said...

Thank you all for your kind words. I know Jake was special to all of you, too. I'd like to think that he and Grandma Ola have found each other again and are keeping each other company. I can see her patting his head and speaking softly to him right now.

Could Heaven be any better?

Ann Beck said...

Now I am crying, too. I have many fond memories of Jake, but mainly I think of how much fun he was to have around the tailgates. It's never easy to lose a pet. My parent's dog passed away this summer, and I still miss him. But it does get easier. My thoughts and prayers are with you.

Anonymous said...

You know that I know all the emotions you're feeling right now. I have come to the conclusion that the reason their lives are so short is that they already know how to live--I mean, really live--while we humans struggle all our lives to learn those basic truths. They come into our lives for such a brief time and leave their prints on our hearts forever. No matter how many of these precious creatures we have in our lives over the years, each one teaches us something different and valuable.

You rescued Jake from a deplorable existence and gave him a wonderful, full life. Rest well in that knowledge.

Sleep soft, Jake.

--Anita--

Anonymous said...

I am truely sorry for your loss.
I understand the heartache that you and your family are feeling. Jake was an important member in your family. He was loved as any good dog should be.
He is in a better place now. No aches, pains, or fleas to fight off.
He took a piece of your heart with him, and left a piece of his to take its place.
Again, our condolences.

TheNotQuiteRightReverend said...

Again, thank you everyone for your support. To lighten the mood, I told Alex that I could swear I heard something when I was digging Jake's grave. He asked "what?" and I said that I wasn't sure, but it sounded like a dog laughing at me. He gave me a perplexed look and I told him that I think it was Jake watching me from Doggie Heaven having a good chuckle while watching me go through all the trouble of digging a massive hole in the dark of night, slipping and sliding in the mud, straining my back, and getting blisters on my hands. Alex thought that was pretty funny. He agreed that Jake would probably enjoy watching me go to all that trouble for him.

Yesterday, we said our goodbyes at the graveside and then went inside and looked at the many pictures we had of Jake. It was neat to see how he was with us through so much of our family's history. Bethany and I adopted him in our second year of marriage, so he really was a member of our family from nearly the beginning.

Thanks again for all the kind words. So far, 15 different people have emailed, blogged, or called to show their support. Jake sure made an impression, didn't he?

Anonymous said...

I wish I had some amazing words to help heal your family's broken hearts, but instead all I can do is cry. :o) As we both know, love for a dog goes deep in both of us and our families too; therefore I can't imagine how hard this must be. Jake will be missed, but we also know that it would be a perfect world if all dogs could have lives like Jake and Maggie. RIP Jake....and you, Bethany and Alex are in my thoughts!