Losing a family pet is never easy. I’ve lost pets before and each one hurt terribly, but losing Jake feels so paramount.
When we adopted Jake he was about 11 weeks old. He was the cutest little black ball of fur I’d ever seen. So curious, observant, aware and so eager to give and receive love.
Jake was particularly fond of an adorable bloodhound named Mable. When she’d come to the house to visit, he’d take one of his toys, his teddy bear or a treat outside to share.
I kid you not!
When the boys and I moved away from dads, leaving Jake behind was so extremely painful – but it was a choice I made in the interest of Jake as well as my dad.
Moving close to a state road – I knew Jake would eventually run trying to get back to Mable.
That wasn’t a chance I was willing to take.
We visited Jake often – always taking him treats to share or keeping him in a physically fit teddy bear. His favorite always was Taz in a Harley jacket though. Never understood – just knew it and thought it was adorable.
There were times Jake would sit out behind the house, sitting statuesque and proud – looking back toward the woods as if he were waiting for a squirrel or chipmunk to emerge. He’s sit there so still, sometimes as long as 15 minutes.
Jake was laid to rest in that very spot. Knowing he would love it there, where he could see the woods, the landscape of the farm and where we could all look out the window and envision him sitting there in the brightest of his glory days.
When the final goodbyes were said to Jake, I asked dad if I could have Jakes Shrek. It’s the one he was photographed with in my favorite picture of him. When I brought it home, I noticed some of Jakey’s black hairs on the vest. In that instant I felt Jakes presence and got a brief glimpse of him running, playing and waiting just this side of Rainbow Bridge.
I am going today to pick up a new pup for my dad. A new companion that will surely bring lots of joy and laughter – but as I welcome the new little guy into our family – I hope and pray that Jake knows how very much he was loved and how painful it is learning to live knowing he’s not going to come racing out the door at my dads to greet me, ever again.
God I miss that dog!