Dog Days

Everyone that knows me, and anyone who has ever read the blog knows that I am a self-confessed crazy dog lady.
I love all dogs.  Even the little ratty looking ones.  But my eyes are usually drawn to any Staffy I see as they remind me of my own little meatball, Jake.  Jake is almost 15 years old and when I first met him, he was being kept in a cupboard in his owner’s house as his older brother was constantly attacking him.
When he was let out of the cupboard to meet us, he went crazy.  He ran circles around the furniture in a furiously insane fashion and the faces of my then husband and step son were a picture. They were less than keen, but I knew I had to take him home.  That was in 2003.
Jake passed away yesterday and, although I knew he wouldn’t live forever, I just hoped that he might.  He was an old man and had slowed down a great deal, having all sorts of problems and vet trips over the past couple of years. But he was always that crazy puppy underneath.
I knew it would happen sooner rather than later and I worried about just how much it would break my heart to have had him around for so long – and for some of the worst times of my life – and then wake up one day and realise he wasn’t there anymore.  Today was that day.
I’m the woman who can’t watch Dog’s Trust adverts on TV without crying, and if there’s a dog on Supervet whose chances are not looking good, I have to switch channels so I don’t end up howling for the rest of the night. I don’t do dog-related sadness well.
We knew on Monday that Jake would go back to the vet the following day and we’d made the decision that we didn’t want him to suffer with a condition that was only going to get worse. So, when the guy from the accident repair garage delivered me a courtesy car and made me sign to say I wouldn’t smoke or have any dogs in the car, I was a mess.
Then my husband suggested that we scatter Jake’s ashes in the sea and I cried because Jake hated the rain.  Then I cried because I found one of his hairs on his bed.  And then I just cried.
I had an easier day than my parents, who actually had to take him to the vet for his last trip.  I was at work in Wales at the time, so I got to avoid the heart wrenching act of sitting with him.
But I also didn’t get to say goodbye and sat, trying desperately trying to work out what the last thing I said to him was, and then realising it didn’t matter because he was a dog and he probably wanted me to go away and stop petting him so he could snooze.
So, for the time you Steve McQueen’d through my expensive leather chair trying to tunnel your way to God knows where; all the times you pushed me out of bed so you could get your massive face comfy on my pillow; for every time you dragged me off my feet and into some damp, soggy puddle; for the time you ran off when I smashed my wrist during our Boxing Day walk; for every time you pulled me away when you spotted a traffic cone, for every time you sat on my head; and for every single time you barked at me to go for a walk and then refused to go outside because it was raining; I forgive you. I wouldn’t have changed it for the world.
You were the best birthday present I’ve ever had and my best friend through thick and thin. I’m so glad you were mine.

Puppy Love - Jake
20/10 best boy

Suz x 

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8 thoughts on “Dog Days”

  1. He was a lovely boy Suz, a great big softy. I'll miss seeing him come bounding through to the sunroom on my 6 weekly visits to your mum's. Hold on to your memories then he'll always be with you. X


  2. oh my, actually in tears. Beautiful, heartfelt words xx Jake was so lucky to have you all as his family xx run free jake xx


  3. I would ask if he was a good boy when you were in, but I already know the answer to that. As long as you cuddled him constantly, he was quite happy!


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