Jack was more than a pet, he was family

I lost the love of my life this week. My Jack, with his noble good looks and the countenance of a champion had to be put down yesterday.  I knew he hadn’t been himself for the last several weeks but still it’s hard to face losing a friend who has provided so much joy to my little family.  

Jack has seen us through every stage of our own development and loved us all the same.  He never seemed to mind the disruptions, the noise, the chaos of a busy family, and the arguments that ensued over big things and small.  In fact, I think he liked the noise of us. 

Over thirteen years ago, we travelled to the Catskills, New York to be interviewed by a breeder intent on determining whether we would be a suitable family.  This grated on me tremendously as I was already raising two young girls and felt I was eminently qualified to take care of one little Labrador Retriever.  I suspect that my attitude was pretty transparent and so we were invited back for a second interview.  

Anyone can have children I was told, but not everyone deserved to have a dog.  I saw their point.  Taking on the added responsibility for any pet should be considered seriously and not whether your frisky fellow will look good on a Christmas card with the kids.  I won’t lie though, Jack was handsome.  

For some reason Jack never barked and loved all creatures great and small. He loved cats, he loved frogs, he loved the ants that crawled on the floor, he loved other dogs and there was never a man, woman or child that he didn’t think would be his friend.  Jack didn’t judge. He loved us all.

He wagged his tail constantly and quite frankly was a lousy watchdog.  The arrival of any stranger was not only unannounced by Jack but was an occasion of joy for him.  Had we ever been burgled, Jack would have offered little resistance and only his heartfelt hospitality.  He loved a crowd.

Once, when taking him for his nightly constitutional, I opened our front door and discovered a sleeping homeless man who had bunkered in for the night having assumed that we weren’t at home.  Jack licked his face and was crushed when the poor startled man ran for his life and took off down the street screaming in alarm.   

Did I mention that Jack was almost a movie star?  Well, I might be exaggerating.  Jack nearly made an appearance in the movie “Something’s Got to Give” which was filmed on our old block in New York.  When director Nancy Myers called for “Jack” she meant actor Jack Nicholson but our Jack responded.  His film career didn’t last but I think he got over it.  

Jack loved a good meal but wasn’t one for taking his time to savour his food.  His approach was more like that of a Dyson vacuum cleaner. The three-second rule in our household referred to how quickly Jack would be upon a morsel or crumb.  His timing was the stuff of Olympian standards.   He was that quick.  I still haven’t figured out how he managed to untie a baker’s box with a carrot cake inside but he did, leaving not a single bite.  The only evidence that he was my kitchen perpetrator was the cream cheese frosting on his nose.  Houdini had nothing on Jack.  

I am gutted. I am bereft and my foolish heart can’t believe that one dog’s absence could make me feel so bad.  But then, he was my Jack. 

 I suppose I will call for him now and then and wonder where he might be.  I’ll think he is in the room or under the table or just there waiting for one of his walks.  I left his water bowl out on the veranda and I will leave it there for him. I know he won’t be home but the sight of it makes me feel that any minute he might return, wagging his tail looking to have his supper. He meant that much to me.

He was a good dog. n