Wednesday, August 1, 2012

Mans Best Friend...

Nine years ago when I met Peter, we both had homes, cars, furniture & pets. Me with 2 dogs and a 1 Cat and Peter with 1 dog "Jazz". As it turned out my dogs went with the ex and I got the cat and adopted Jazz, Peters dog as my own.  As the years went by Jazz experienced all my pregnancies, sat at my feet when I was 9 months pregnant liking my toes when they'd get as swollen as a sausage.  We bounded but never as he and Peter. They were truly best friends. I was just a substitute until Peter got home. It was fine with me because he was such a good dog as I realized early on they were best friends. Peter would joke and speak on his behalf when the kids woke up at 6am screaming and yelling and Jazz would be forced to wake from his warm bed and have that look of "you gotta be kidding me; where were the days of sleeping in". All our neighbors also enjoyed how well behaved he was in our front yard that has no fence - Jazz would run up and down our lawn and never touch the street our leave our property lines.  He was the neighborhood dog, everyone loved him and used to come up to him and scratch his belly or his ears. One neighbor would have special treats for him just in case she was out when he was either sun bathing on his back our just chillin. Talk about well liked!

Seven months ago Jazz got sick and was passing blood in his urine; what we thought was a simple bladder infection was not. Monday July 30, 2012 Peter finally decided Jazz was suffering enough and decided assist him in ending any pain he was in.

Our last few months have been difficult and never in a million years did I think I'd feel this empty. I mean I loved him, but he was Peter's buddy not really mine. I was the care taker like a baby sitter for a child. However, just when I thought I knew myself as Jazz's caretaker my heart broke when Peter & I sat in his doctors office on Monday night. I realized I had this secret love for him, the same love I have for my family because that is just what Jazz was a part of my (our) family. And not having him around everyday was going to be sad, a loss and emptiness to our home. Who was going to eat my table scraps, who was going to bark like Cujo when those teenage pranksters rang our door bell at 2am, who was going to speak to the kids when Peter did his tricks and asked him where's the roof and Jazz would look up and bark "roof roof". But most of all who was going to go with me every morning at 5:30am and pick up the paper and listen to me talk about the whether and who was new in the neighborhood. My husband lost his best friend and I lost the greatest dog I've ever known . I'm sorry for every time I yelled at him for wanting more scraps than food, for accidental peeing on my door step when I didn't wake up early to let him out (note the front door was the spot not my carpet). Who was going to sound protective with that deep bark when we heard strange noises at night (they mostly being possums or cats in heat; they didn't have to know he wouldn't have hurt them - most likely played our smelled them instead). I'm sorry for losing my patience at the end, washing your beds daily, I'm sorry we didn't feel your physical pain you never seemed to mind just slept a little more, ate a little less but never complained.

As I saw my husband really breakdown for the first time in our relationship, I realized what a loss we were in for. Jazz may heaven have a million doggy cookies, table scraps and big fluffy beds. I love you and miss.

1 comment:

  1. I am SO sorry for your loss. What a beautiful tribute to your pet and family member. I know there are dogs in heaven because our relationships continue after we die and we truly have relationships with our pets, right?!

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