Farewell, My Sweet Pup

Dear Jackopea,

It is hard for me to imagine what life will be like without you.  For six years, you have been an integral part of my life.  You have become a part of me, and now that part is missing.  I am devastated, to say the least.

We picked you up from Family Dogs New Life Shelter on June 10, 2006.  I had been wanting a dog for ages but Ricky didn't.  When he saw your picture he told me he'd be happy to get a dog, as long as it was THAT dog - meaning you.  I'll be honest, you weren't my first pick.  I was hoping for an older, mellower dog, and mellow was not at all a word I'd use to describe you in those early years!  But I wanted a dog more than anything, so home we went.

It took a while for us to all adjust to each other.  I was frustrated with you in the beginning.  You followed me everywhere and got into everything.  I thought about taking you back to the shelter.  I even talked to Ricky about taking you back.  I talked to the shelter about what a difficult time I was having and Lisa gave me some ideas.  And then...I read your file.

You were found on the street as a puppy in October of 2005.  You estimated birthday was May of the same year.  The family that found you took you home and named you Spaz.  Then, in December of 2005 they took you to Multnomah County Animal Services and Shelter.  They said they couldn't handle you anymore.  You were too barky and you knocked over the kids.  We found out later from Lisa that they kept you outside all the time and put you in your kennel for punishment.

Sometime between December and February you were transferred to Family Dogs.  A new family adopted you.  They kept you for 4 months, then brought you back.  The woman showed up at the shelter and said "here, you take him" and left, leaving you standing in the lobby.  Is it any wonder you had an aversion to the place and would run past it as fast as possible on our bike rides?!  That second family changed your name from Spaz to Jacko, and the name stuck.

By the time we came along, you were one year old.  We were your third family in 8 months.  After reading your story, I knew there was no way I was going to take you back to the shelter.  Somehow, someway, we'd work it out.  In fact I looked into your eyes and told you that I wouldn't give you up.  Six years later, I still mean it - I won't give you up, my sweet, sweet pup.

We had a lot of great times together.  You loved bike rides - so much so that we couldn't even say the words around you until we were ready to go!  I'll never forget when we realized you knew what the phrase "bike ride" meant.  I'll also never forget when I realized just how much you could understand.  I told you I was tired and that we weren't going for a bike ride today.  "Not today," I said, and you proceeded to mope around the house like you'd lost your best friend.  "Tomorrow," I said, and sure as shootin', the next day you danced around the bike until I finally took you.  That was also the day I learned that the theory that dogs don't remember things was wrong, at least in your case.

Sometimes we'd take you for a run downtown.  We'd go to the fountain at Salmon Street and you'd play.  You loved that fountain, but only one of it's settings.  When the other settings were going, you couldn't care less about playing, but as soon as the "hose" setting of the fountain came on, you were giddy with excitement.    Of course, it was a long way for a pup to run to get to that fountain, and the first time we took you we thought we broke you!  You hardly moved for the next two days!

Ricky and I took you lots of places.  We took you to the Starlight Parade and to the Milwaukie Daze parade.  We went to lots of different dog parks - you even got to play in a really cool dog park in Bend once.  One time we went to Lew's Dari-Freeze with Mom and Dad, and you got your very own soft serve ice cream cone.

You knew a lot of words, and a lot of tricks.  You came to us knowing sit, lay down, and shake.  Ricky taught you to speak - and then you never shut up again!  Boy, did we regret that one.  We also taught you left and right, wave, jump, sing, go around, off, and I'm sure there were others.  Of course, our favorite trick to show off was "bang!"  We'd point our finger at you like a gun and say "BANG!" and then you'd fall over and play dead.  Everyone loved that trick and you loved to show it off.  Of course, you could only pretend to be dead for a few seconds before your tail would start thumping.  You sure loved that attention!

When we first bought this house, we brought you here a lot while we worked on it.  Each day we'd come to the house, do some work, play in the backyard and then go home.  The first night we stayed here for good, you started whining in the evening.  We couldn't figure out what was wrong.  Finally we realized - you thought it was time to go home.  It took a few days for you to realize we WERE home.

In March 2011 we brought Cody home.  He's a crazy, spastic dog who must be slightly ADD.  Ok, more than slightly.  You loved him and loved to play with him, but sometimes you got frustrated with him.  Cody, for his part, followed you everywhere (hey, payback, right?!).  When you wanted time away from Cody, you'd trick him.  If you went to the door as if you wanted to go out, Cody would too.  As soon as Ricky or I opened the door, Cody would head outside while you bolted back to the bedroom.  You always were too smart for your own good.

There were so many great times, and this has already gotten too long.  Mostly I want you to know that I loved you so, so much.  You were my first baby, and you'll always be my favorite (don't tell Cody).  I miss you more than I can tell you.  Coming home tonight was hard.  Not hearing your tail thumping against the wall of your kennel sent me into a tail spin.  I don't know how I'm going to do life without you, my companion.  The unconditional love, the complete trust and total adoration you showed me has been ingrained on my heart forever.  You were well loved, pup, and now you are sorely missed..

Bedtime won't be the same without you, Jacko-pea.  No one to snuggle, no one to sneak in between Ricky and me, no one to growl at me when I wake him up by changing positions in bed.  My heart is aching, but I am glad you were able to live a full and happy life.  You got to go for your last bike ride with Ricky just a couple of weeks ago, and for that I am so thankful.  You looked so happy flying down the road, and I have to believe you knew how much we loved you.

Goodbye, my faithful friend.  You were so much more than a dog, and you will be missed for always.