My dog Jack
Jack started off as my daughter Tammy’s dog. A border collie, he was true to the characteristics of his breed, an Einstein amongst his lesser peers, and a superb athlete at twisting high jump frisbee catching.
He went into a depression when Tammy was at work and he was left alone at home. Since I had more free time than Tammy I willingly replaced my daughter as pack leader for Jack. It was an adjustment for him but he knew me and loved me from puppyhood. And he often had trips to enjoy cuddles and kisses from his “Mom”.
Like Tammy my daughter, and very unlike me he was also a workaholic. He had to be busy, working all the time. Since Tammy did not have a flock of sheep for him to keep herding, he had to amuse himself with other activities. In addition to frisbee catching, he loved playing goalie in ball hockey in front of a hockey net. He would make spectacular tennis ball saves using only his mouth, then jerk his head up while opening his mouth to deliver the ball back for the shooter to try another shot.
He often played on Tammy’s or my front sidewalk and would offer the ball to passersby in case they wanted to test their skill. In fact he was known and loved throughout the neighbourhood. Even the local store owners allowed Jack to enter and quietly sit by the wall while I shopped.
He was truly the most loyal, trusting and loving companion I had ever had. I took him on runs regularly, me on my bike, Jack running beside. Mostly I chose bike paths or back alleys. No leash was necessary. Jack always obeyed all my voice commands instantly.
He knew he was not allowed to go on asphalt without permission. He would stop at the curb until I gave permission, “OK.” On bike paths he would stop on a dime when I gave the command, “Stop”. When other dogs challenged, he would do as I instructed either sitting in place, or avoiding by going around. I only wish I had him sooner so he could have been an example for proper behaviour to my two kids.
A dog’s lifespan is way too short
The saddest thing about dogs is their brief lifespan. You know when you get that beautiful little furry cuddly creature that you are going to enjoy him for too brief a time. You will watch him grow old, develop white hairs around his mouth and eyebrows, lose or diminish some abilities like sight, hearing, and balance. He will develop other age-related weaknesses like arthritis. You will take him to the vet, but his aging process is beyond your control. If he loses bladder control he will be mortified. He will need to be petted and consoled and both of you will be overcome with sadness.
If I could have foreseen the future I would never have played frisbee with Jack. I would have thrown a ball for him to chase instead. The spectacular leaps Jack was able to constantly perform destroyed his hip and knee joints. Suddenly he could hardly walk. He was in constant pain, unable to climb stairs and unable to find a comfortable sleeping position. The surgeon Tammy had taken him to for X rays exacerbated the problem yanking his legs out straight for an X-ray.
It was a difficult decision to decide for Jack when the pain in his life outweighed the joy in living. When he could no longer get up unassisted, when a night’s sleep was impossible due to pain, we knew that awful time had arrived. Tammy bought a wading pool for him to lie in. He had loved swimming. We gave him a cut up steak dinner, rare, with a suspicion of garlic. He licked it and left most.
A group of about six or eight people who all loved Jack accompanied us to the vet. There I lifted him gently on a high table. The vet gave him a mild sedative to relieve the pain and help him relax. One by one his human clan formed a line, murmured their goodbyes, kissed his face then moved on. There was lots of quiet sobbing. It didn’t seem to upset him although he was always very instinctive about the mood of people around him. I think he felt the love and also the good drugs. I was the last to kiss him goodbye and he covered my face with wet kisses. Wet tongue kisses I could never accept from a human but strangely, easily could from my dog Jack. The vet gently slid in the final needle.
No more pain, Jack’s eyes closed. He was at peace.