He came into my life during a crazy period. I was completely screwed up by the weight of carrying, birthing, and caring for three tiny babies. I was buried under mountains of guilt and helplessness and I was not "okay".
We walked right past him at the pound because Chief wanted a German Shepard. The dog Lolli was wanting to play with was currently the subject of a custody dispute and was not available for adoption. The employee suggested we meet "blue" instead.
He didn't even acknowledge us. He was laying in the back of the pen looking like he had almost given up on life. He looked so sad, completely defeated and devoid of all motivation to keep going. We had to coax him a bit to come over to us, but he finally did. I said What do you think Lolli? She said Let's play with him!!! (not too surprising of a response from a 2 year old).
He came out to the yard pretty calm and collected. The second the click of the leash being removed from his collar sounded he took off like a bullet from a gun. He ran! He ran like a lunatic. He ran and didn't stop running for ten minutes. It was almost like watching a caged bird go free. It was a beautiful sight to behold. Lolli took off running after him. She was laughing hysterically. We called him over to us and I thoroughly tortured him. Okay, not tortured in the way you might be thinking, but I had to be certain he wouldn't bite a child if they tugged his ears, pulled his fur, or stuck things in his mouth. He never batted an eye. He was gentle as can be and he was going to join our family. He would leave that place no longer "blue" but Jake, named after Jake the Pillowsnake in Lolli's favorite book.
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The vet came in and asked me if I had any questions or concerns about him. I mentioned that he seemed a bit slower when getting up in the morning. I could tell his age was starting to come into play. I figured they would say we'd need to start arthritis meds soon and that we should start to look into it. She started examining him. One thing led to another and another and another. And then she started talking. She starting saying things like "the end of his life" and "quality of life" and "permanent neurological damage" and "final days".
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When we brought him home from the pound he was a holy terror, but only to my stuff. I couldn't keep a bra or a pair of underwear (and it didn't matter if they were in my dresser or not). He destroyed ALL of my clothes. Chewed them to shreds. We had a thousand theories as to why he did that to only my stuff but who really could ever know? He made a thousand attempts to destroy the vacuum. In his world it was the devil sent to destroy. You try cleaning a home with a 100 lb dog chasing after you and barking like rabid dog! He wasn't allowed in our bed, but the second I'd leave the room, he would be right up there in my spot, under the comforter (whether the bed was made or not) with his head on my pillow.He always wanted to be held. I still remember the first time he decided I was going to hold him. He jumped up on my lap and then looked so embarrassed. I actually loved it so I grabbed on tight and we sat there cuddling for a while. I was so lost mentally and he seemed to understand that element of myself. He cut through the darkness in my mind and loved me fiercely, even if I resisted it. That was the one and only time he ever jumped in my lap though. He's always had a concern of injuring me (and others as well). It's not something we've taught him, he's just done it. NO ONE and no "thing" is allowed to hurt me in his world.
This dog came into my life to save me. I know that he did. He came to help me, to love me, to rescue me. I'll never forget the moment where I was so completely exhausted and Brun wouldn't stop screaming. She always cried and it was so mentally defeating. I hadn't slept in months and I don't know how I was living. I was sitting on the couch crying (it was like 3 in the morning or so) and I was thinking I can't do this anymore. I don't know how to make her stop crying... and all of a sudden Jake got up and put half of his body on top of her in her bouncer (the trips slept in bouncy seats the first two months of their lives because of it helping with breathing). She immediately became quiet. She fell asleep. He started doing it all the time. She would cry and he would go lay on her. It was like a miracle brought to us in a four legged animal.
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Tears were pouring out of my eyes. It was the last thing I ever expected. I know that labs get arthritis and I was prepared for that. But the end of his life? The thought had never crossed my mind. Contemplating my home without him is torture. Spaniel has been protecting him lately. She's been clinging to him and hovering over him. She's been mothering him. Gus is preying on his weaknesses and the only time that Jake will go after him is if he plays too roughly with me. Even in pain, he still refuses to allow anyone to hurt me. Maybe he sees Gus as the passing of the torch. He's been so hell bent on teaching him the ropes and the rules of the land as he sees them. Chief said he thinks that Jake is preparing Gus to take over. He knows his days are short.I can't fathom it. My heart can't handle it. I still remember the moment when I went to sleep with the dog on the floor, and I woke up spooning him, the beginning of a ritual that has been our "thing" ever since. He LOVES to be spooned or to spoon.
I am working on treasuring every moment. I am playing through so many memories of this crazy dog that stole my heart. I am trying to prepare for the moment when I will have to let him go, though the thought sends me into tears. Who knew a person and an animal could be so bonded, so intertwined? There will never be another Jake.
It was just supposed to be his annual check up. It was just supposed to be getting new tags and renewing his prescriptions. It wasn't supposed to be the beginning of goodbye.
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