'Ol Jake

I was visiting the folks in Atlanta, quite a few
years ago. Me and my then-single sis, were out
running an errand or two and catching up when I
saw them. A lady sitting by the side of the road
in a shopping center. She had a play yard set up
and a little shade. We pulled over. Inside the
play yard were at least 7 or 8 brown wrinkly
puppies. They were hot, it was getting late.
THEY WERE FREE. The pups' ears dragged the ground.
I fell in love with one, he was dark reddish
brown with a black tip on his tail.

His former mom had called him dipstick. We grabbed
some dog food and accessories and raced back to
my parents' house. My folks liked the dog so well
that they went and got one. We named ours Jake, the
folks called theirs Gus. We loved the young Jake,
my hubby made up a song about him. THEN, we moved
to the country. Now Jake's dad was a coon hound, his
mom a rotty-mix. He took to the country like a
duck to water. He was home. He started developing
bad habits.

He would sneak out the front door past our then young
kids and be gone for hours. He ran in the woods and
bayed to his heart's content. He became a scrapper.
We adopted a dog out of the pound. Jake and the pup
broke out of their fence one day and went walkabout.
Jake came back limping liked he'd fought a pack of
coyotes, the pup never returned. This happened twice.
Jake developed a male rivalry with my neighbor's
German shepherd. He snuck past me one day (he was so
good at it) and went and started a fight with the
neighbor's dog. I saw my dog leap up 5 feet in the
air and bash the window on my neighbor's trailer.
I was ashamed. I was proud. Ol Jake was a somebich,
but he was ours. Can you imagine me going over to the
neighbors and explaining about the window?

Time rolled on and we learned the value of an electric
fence. One day I noticed a lump on Jake's back.
The vet diagnosed inoperable cancer in his spine.
We cried. We took him home and promptly spoiled him
rotten. Yes, heaven is sweeter, but we wanted what
time he had left to be filled with happiness.
We gave him pain medicine. We visited a friend who
did reike on his back. We bought him a dog bed
and let him sleep in our room. Then we bought a
fluffier one. We took him for walks and occasionally
let him off the leash, his heart longed for the woods
even when his body was getting tired. We took him
for drives. He adored them. He would get a happy meal
of his own. I'd even take him to Petsmart. He loved
sniffing the place out, as only coon hounds can. He
got a toy or a chewy with every visit.

The pain started getting worse, the bad days began to
outnumber the good. The week before he passed, Ol Jake
even chased a squirrel under a bush, about knocking me
down in the process. But we could tell he was tired, so
we let him go.

Today, I have a new coon hound, who bays, but doesn't run.
Ol Gus still lives with my folks, arthritis has slowed him
down considerably. I call Gus and my folk's 2nd hound my
brothers. They're family. Hug your canine companions,
don't take them for granted.

I went for a walk last summer and could have sworn I saw
Ol Jake rambling along, on his way to the woods. A lovely
thought that.

Michelle