Friday, January 23
paws for thought
Today it is a month since we lost our most cherished Jake, the world's most special dog. Put your hands down, this is not a debate. I'm sure your dogs are all very wonderful. Jake was...Jake.
Anyway, I miss him, but I also just miss having a wagging tail and happy bark when I put the key in the lock. I miss hot breath on my face in the morning, waking me up for a walk. I miss making room on the bed for a 3rd furry body. I miss the love.
Russell sees me shed tears almost every day still and hopes a puppy would cheer me up. I think it would help and I'm almost ready. But here is the dilemma. I don't know how to do this.
When we got Jake, apparently we got him at a "puppy mill" Who knew? The guy was definitely a broker of puppies, had several types at his kennel. Jake was from the guy's own Golden and a woman in the same small town. (or so he and the AKC papers said). The pups all looked happy, many were outside playing in grassy pens. A few were in the main building, we had fun looking at them all and playing with them. But I had Jake in my arms and, as far as I was concerned, the deal was done.
And Jake was wonderful. More than wonderful The cancer that killed him was not the fault of the kennel, unless you subscribe to the theory that over-breeding popular breeds leads to that sort of thing. I have no idea.
So, my dog-buying ethics firmly in place, I perused shelters and rescues and the local classifieds. And there, in the paper was an ad for goldendoodles (my first choice for a new puppy) in the 'burbs, lady sounds very sweet. She says the puppies are from her family dogs, live in her home, played with by her kids, not a puppy mill. First litter for her dog, etc. Sounded perfect, price was right, I wasn't ready. But I thought about those dogs for weeks. Tuesday I left her a message. DId she still have puppies?
No answer, no message. They were gone, back to the classifieds. And there, same phone number, same cute picture of the puppies, was an ad for the parents. A 3yr old Golden, an 18 month poodle. "Just had their first litter of doodles" the ad read. What? You're selling the "family dogs" that live in your home and play with your kids? A 3 year old dog?
I hate feeling stupid.
My friend, Marie, has taken to sending me e-mails with links to darling strays at all sorts of shelters. "How about this one?", an email will read. Or "Take a look at Jasper".
None of them appeal to me. Maybe because none of them are Jake.
Maybe I need a little more time.
Anyway, I miss him, but I also just miss having a wagging tail and happy bark when I put the key in the lock. I miss hot breath on my face in the morning, waking me up for a walk. I miss making room on the bed for a 3rd furry body. I miss the love.
Russell sees me shed tears almost every day still and hopes a puppy would cheer me up. I think it would help and I'm almost ready. But here is the dilemma. I don't know how to do this.
When we got Jake, apparently we got him at a "puppy mill" Who knew? The guy was definitely a broker of puppies, had several types at his kennel. Jake was from the guy's own Golden and a woman in the same small town. (or so he and the AKC papers said). The pups all looked happy, many were outside playing in grassy pens. A few were in the main building, we had fun looking at them all and playing with them. But I had Jake in my arms and, as far as I was concerned, the deal was done.
And Jake was wonderful. More than wonderful The cancer that killed him was not the fault of the kennel, unless you subscribe to the theory that over-breeding popular breeds leads to that sort of thing. I have no idea.
So, my dog-buying ethics firmly in place, I perused shelters and rescues and the local classifieds. And there, in the paper was an ad for goldendoodles (my first choice for a new puppy) in the 'burbs, lady sounds very sweet. She says the puppies are from her family dogs, live in her home, played with by her kids, not a puppy mill. First litter for her dog, etc. Sounded perfect, price was right, I wasn't ready. But I thought about those dogs for weeks. Tuesday I left her a message. DId she still have puppies?
No answer, no message. They were gone, back to the classifieds. And there, same phone number, same cute picture of the puppies, was an ad for the parents. A 3yr old Golden, an 18 month poodle. "Just had their first litter of doodles" the ad read. What? You're selling the "family dogs" that live in your home and play with your kids? A 3 year old dog?
I hate feeling stupid.
My friend, Marie, has taken to sending me e-mails with links to darling strays at all sorts of shelters. "How about this one?", an email will read. Or "Take a look at Jasper".
None of them appeal to me. Maybe because none of them are Jake.
Maybe I need a little more time.
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1 comment:
I found your blog through google, how I came across it, I'm not quite sure. But I've read through every post to this one, and I had to comment. I have a Golden, Abby, and she's the light of my life. I don't know what I'll do when she leaves us, but I thought that I would let you know that I was touched to see the compassion you have for your lost pet.
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