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technodweeb

OT - My sweet Jake has left

technodweeb
15 years ago

My dear sweet Jake.

Jake, the love in my life, for his happiness, and his dear empathetic capabilities, has left.

15 years. He was a terminally happy dog, my Jake. My beautiful Jake was always there, in my hurtful hours, always hugging me (he would put his forehead on my collar bone) saying "IÂm here mommy, donÂt cry. " I would always be amazed. He never failed to make me smile through some of my darkest days.

Jake, who traveled back and forth across the US with me 4 times in a car, and the 3 times on an airplane, was my greatest fan, and I his.

Jake, aka Jake the flake, aka Jake the snake, aka Devil dog, aka Sir Barks-a-lot, always nosey, always caring, always in the way, but always happy to just be included in whatever you were doing. Just so he could be with you.

My biggest fan, and I his, always being loud, and raucous and obnoxious. But he never failed to make people laugh.

My Jake, who loved to body surf, as everyone at the beach liked to laugh about, and loved snow boarding, except he spent more time plowing the snow with his nose, as he chased you down the hill.

My Jake, who thought he was a bigshot who cornered a buck, only to have the buck turn and run on him. And Jake, running so fast tucking his tail under his rump, and his rump threatening to beat his shoulders home, darted under the back end of the suburban. As Jake ducked away, the buck saw me with a pipe (willing to "bong" him if he didnÂt slow up) veered away to fall down on the black top and then run away up the hill.

Yea, my brave Jake.

My Jake, who had a bad habit of "puppy clipping" who would run behind you cutting you so close, your knees would buckle. A friend he did this to, who always carried a handkerchief, threw down his handkerchief and yelled "Puppy clipping! Flag on the play! 1st down!"

My sweet friend, who liked to ride in cars, who jumped in my sweetheartÂs front seat of his Lexis looking around "WhoÂs your daddy? WhoÂs your puppy, huh?"

My beautiful smiling friend, has gone to Rainbow Bridge. Would that I could have traded with him, or even given him some of my years, or bought some miracle cure to stave off the years, I would have.

My beautiful happy friend, who lived through 2 strokes, 3 cyst surgeries, 1 rebuilt leg, has gone. Any my heart is weary with grief. I am reminded each time I open the door expecting his nosey butt there waiting, or I come around the corner expecting him to be there looking for me to go out and garden, or bark at me in the shower.

But he is waiting for me, my beautiful friend. He is waiting for me, he is waiting for me at Rainbow Bridge. And I miss him dearly, with my heart aching and heavy with his absence.

Please give your fuzzy friends a kiss, a hug, and an extra helping on their plates tonite.

They give so much more than we even realize. It is hard to quantify.

Love to all of you.

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