My Dog Jazz

How do we get so attached to our pets? Do they have some mystic power over us making us helpless? Could it be their complete devotion, never in-question loyalty, love without condition, the view that we’re perfect, and never noticing, certainly never making us aware of our deficiencies? To want nothing more than making those they love, love them more. The tail wag, an instant response of happiness. I’ve tried it, you can’t help but smile and be happy. Go ahead and give it a shot, tell me it doesn’t make you smile or giggle just a little bit.

I remember the first time I saw Jazz. In a barn, at the breeder’s farm. He was eight weeks old and offering a pigeon feather to me and instantly stealing my heart. I don’t believe I’ve ever seen as much character displayed by a puppy as Jazz. This wasn’t an occasional thing, he did it on a regular basis throughout his life. From his bunny hops to sharing my foot stool, butt on the edge with his front feet on the floor. Standing at the kitchen sink drinking from the running tap. His groans with a simple ear rub, the excitement of the wind in his face in my truck. He would catch a scent, his nose in the air taking in massive volumes of air absorbing the smells floating in the breeze. His endless retrieves of the tennis ball in the pond with me finally giving in due to my arm dying at the thought of one more throw. Jazz made the most out of life and found it the simplest of pleasure being with me. His nervous excitement as I put a new bag of food into the container, him standing guard over it until I finished. The joy of getting into bed, straddle my body, face to face, for a nighttime ear rub. Deciding he had enough, he’d push and fight for his space on the bed. It usually meant Jen and I were pushed to edge as Jazz celebrated his victory in a stretch that somehow would make him six feet long and three feet wide. Jazz didn’t just celebrate being a dog, he celebrated being MY dog, and he had the best life of any dog ever. He allowed me to be in his pack, and how lucky I was to be a part of it.

My pain in watching him go downhill, first just slowing with the little changes to sleeping 20 hours a day. Finally, watching his pain and fear manifest along with his confusion of not knowing why he was losing his balance and falling, and me saying I was scared to lose my buddy. The fear in his eyes matched by my determination to help him through it and try to get things back to normal. Of course, in the end, my attempts failed and he finally let me know that it was time. My hope, I gave him a fraction of the comfort that he gave me in happiness for twelve and half years.

I miss him so much and my heart has a hole in it. I pray he is being feed the best of food, chasing countless birds, wading in the purest of waters and rolling in the sweetest of muds. Getting his ears rubbed nightly by family past. My thoughts for Jazz are always under the surface, coming forward every time I see another Labrador, under my breath saying we’ll be together again my friend, I promise.