Sunday, March 9, 2014

#Sol14--Day 9. Rest Easy Jackson

Two Writing Teachers have written about the Slice of Life on their blog.  Head on over and check it out!

Yes.  A blog about my dog.  Again.  

When Jackson started to show his age, my husband and I agreed that we would keep him with us, until we knew that it "was time."  Last night it "was time."  After approximately 14 years, we said good-bye to our crazy sweet puppy. 

When we began our #sol14 blogging challenge I wrote a bit about him here.  It was a late night last night, but when my husband shared about Jackson on Facebook, he asked for people to share stories that they remember.  Because with Jackson, there was always a story.  He was like your 'epic' friend in college who always took you on an adventure and gave you a story.  Wise or not.   

So today's post is a few more of those stories.  Stories that make us laugh and smile and shake our heads.  

So, a mentor of mine reminded me of the time that we first brought him home.  It was our first house, and Jackson spent his days in the basement.  I was worried that he didn't have a comfy place to rest, so I went out and acquired a used piece of furniture for him to sit and rest on.  He ate it.  

Another friend remembered how high he could jump.  He mainly used that skill to help himself to tasty treats that weren't really for him.  

When we first brought him home, I used to let him 'roam free' in the car.  Until the day I was driving him to the vet, and clearly I wasn't giving him enough attention while I was driving the car.  So he sat down in front of me.  On the accelerator.  Thankfully, I was at a stop light, so I had my other foot on the break, and just looked like a 20-something girl who wanted to burn rubber during rush hour.  No cars or people or dogs were harmed in this incident.  And he rode in his kennel after that.  

He used to howl every time my youngest son would sing.  Loudly.  

When he would chase animals, he always ran in the wrong direction.  He desperately wanted to catch squirrels and rabbits in our backyard.  If they ran right, he went left.  If he went right, they went left.  

These stories could go on and on.  But what I remember most is how it felt when it was time to 'nest' for the night, and he would find us and curl up at our feet.  If we stayed up to late, he was our reminder to sit down and rest.  

When we arrived home last night after our trip to the Veterinarian ER, we immediately began to talk about how Jackson was with us when we had no idea how to be grown ups.  We still might not know how to be grown ups, but we are so thankful that he was with us as we tried to figure it out.  

A refined, well-trained dog?  Definitely not.  An Awesome dog?  Forever.  

Rest easy Sweet Puppy.  


  1. What a sweet tribute to this wonderful friend! I imagine you shed a few tears writing this post.

    1. Yeah, we've been laughing and tearing up all day. Writing of course helped tremendously. Because really, there are still more stories coming out even this afternoon. He was a dog with stories. Thanks for stopping by and your kind words.

  2. When my dog, Faith, passed away rather quickly, I was terribly unprepared. My sister comforted me with the words, "She had a great life, just one hard day. If only we could all be so lucky." I knew she was right. It took almost 4 years, but I had a dream that Faith was running through grass, "smiling" her dog smile and somehow communicating to me that she was happy and okay--and grateful for our love. I awakened, smiling, feeling reassured and grateful for that dream. Maybe she was really telling me something.

    1. Life was kind to us last night. Some really confirming moments happened last night, because of course we were second guessing ourselves as we went along. When the vet basically gave us her blessing that it was time, I knew we were doing the right thing. I can't wait to have a dream like that! I should be so lucky. Thanks for sharing your experience. Dogs are awesome.

  3. Tears and smiles, I'm sure, as you remember Jackson. It will always be that way. Our first dog lived to the ripe old age of 16. Like you, we knew when it was time. It was forever before we were ready for our Chloe.

    Hugs to you....

    1. Deb, we've been laughing and tearing all day. We can't even imagine how we'll ever want another dog. (We know this too, shall pass.) Thanks for your kind words. He was definitely not refined, but he was ours.