Goodbye Old Friend

 

Jacko.

I remember the day I brought you home. You were just a young buck. Four years old meant you were full grown in size and no longer a rambunctious puppy. I had spent hours at your shelter looking at other dogs and finally found you. You were just my style. Chilled, Easy Going, Smooth. I knew we'd get along beautifully. You had that gleam in your eye, and I knew you had some savvy; little did I know at the time just how smart really were. You came home leash trained, house trained and voice trained...I was pleasantly surprised. You even showed me that day that you would sit and "shake" paws for a treat. For a dog, you were a pretty "cool cat".

You enjoyed 'herding' my shoes while i was gone to work during the day. I'd come home to find them all lined up on the couch. You'd only eat the expensive ones, You had good taste, no one could deny. I thought shutting the bedroom doors would keep you from doing that, after all...you didn't have thumbs; how could you open the doors? But you did buddy...didn't you? You figured it out, and as irritating as it was, i must admit i was proud. You were smarter than I ever realized.

And Jack, what a great wing-man in my single days! As i said in the paragraph before, you had good taste. You would only flirt with the pretty girls. And you were so casual about it...they never realized you were my opener until they'd already been smitten by your charms. You were smooth, my friend...very smooth. You'd sit right up in the front seat of the Jeep...just like a regular person. You'd wink; and smile...yeah...we were quite a team.

We both loved the outdoors, didn't we buddy? We hiked and camped all over the place. California coast, Mexico's Baja Peninsula, The Arizona desert and mountains, Up on parts of the Appalachian Trail, and many nights deep in the forest of Manistee. You'd walk point on the hikes, Stand guard at night, and even got me UN-lost a time or two out there in the wilderness. I owe you big for those times buddy...You saved my neck more than once; walking a dangerous canyon or sleeping in bear country. You truly were this man's best friend.

Time flew by us, Jack. We both got older and didn't want to admit it. I brought you home when you were four. You would have been sixteen next month. That's a good old age for a canine. It's difficult to say that; half the time you seemed more human than dog. We got old though. We both got grey hairs; and a little hitch in our giddy-up...The only problem with that is...your hitch was much worse than mine. I noticed that you started to be pained more. Getting up and laying down started to be difficult. There was the ever-present limp there on one of the front legs or the other...that, and the sad look in your eyes that told me it was getting to be time to let you go. I didn't want to, for all of the selfish reasons that exist. Years ago, however, you and I made a deal. I promised you I wouldn't be one of those dog owners who let their animal (man's best friend) live too long in pain and misery. It wouldn't really be living, merely existing.

Action Jackson, I miss you. It's been a week now since we had to tell you goodnight and goodbye as you took that last sleep. You went down gently and swiftly, at my feet, as I held your head. You, my friend, will be sorely missed. Every adventure, every run around the yard or the park, all of the travels and trails...I will forever take you with me in spirit. You were special, since day one. There will never be another Jack. Enjoy the Big Trail where you are...keep an eye out for me, as I'll look for you to guide the way (like you always did here) when I get up on that Big Trail myself someday.