I lost a great friend this week…and I’m still grieving..and trying to avoid going in the back yard. And I’m really sad…and thankful…that I was out of town when it happened. Cowardly, I know.

We’d come to call him, “The Old Man” because sweet Jake was 16 years old. That’s 112 approximately in dog years!

 

There’s a song from long ago by The Pirates of the Mississippi, Feed Jake with a line that goes, “Feed Jake, He’s been a Good Dog”. And The Old Man was a GOOD dog.

He was the first gift I ever received from my step son… he was supposed to be a miniature dachshund. That’s what he SAID he was getting me. But then he came in with this ball of fur with HUGE feet…and I was keeping him because he gave him to me!

He was a husky-shepherd mix with a black tongue and coarse hair…who shed like a mohair sweater! But, he never had an accident in the house and he was very quiet and just a Great Big Love.

One morning before daylight I was working in the living room, when this sound like the front of the house was coming off got me on my feet running! It was Jake going after someone who wasn’t supposed to be there. He’d raced across the front porch between me and the intruder. He didn’t make a lot of noise, but when he did, like EF Hutton, you listened.

And he LOVED car rides! I’m so glad on the last days that I spent with him, I took him out for a ride. He stuck his nose in the air, not really strong enough to sit up to hang his head out. When he was younger, he was almost royal-like on a car ride. Sitting up at attention, watching everything go by. He loved car rides.

Gig “borrowed” him once…for about 6 months…while she found and began to raise W. And Jake was a great “big brother”. When W had finally pestered Jake enough, he had this tone that said, “Enough!” I hope W learned how to be a good dog from him.

 

So we’ve said Goodbye with lots of tears ..and a hope that he’s comfortable once more and riding around Heaven. He was a Good Dog. Well Loved. And Terribly missed.