For months, Jack, our 16-year-old sweetheart-of-a-dog had been inching his way toward heaven. It was hard to watch. He weakened. Stopped doing the things he loved. He slowly lost his zest for living.
If you’re lucky, once in a lifetime, a dog comes along who opens your heart a little more than usual. If you’re lucky, you have the privilege of knowing a special creature who touches your soul and reminds you what true love is. My Jack was one of those soul-touching dogs.
Jack joined me sixteen years ago when I moved to Fort Collins, Colorado. (I stayed for three years, as it turned out before returning to my beloved mountains of North Carolina). I wanted a companion for my five-year-old dog, Emma, who seemed homesick for eastern forests.
So one hot August day I drove to the Ahimsa Ranch Animal Rescue nearly on the Wyoming border to meet a dog of uncertain age (estimated at 8 months) and 50 pounds. He was an orangey-brown (from the photos on the website) and got along with other dogs, as well as cats. His name was “Cricket,” which implied energy and youth. Was I up for this?
Before arriving at the rescue ranch, Cricket had been in Ukiah, California at a no-kill shelter. I don’t know the details, but he was sent with some other dogs to the Colorado ranch. So by the time I met him, he had already been through a lot.
I wandered for over an hour on dusty country roads with Emma in the back seat of my ancient Toyota Corolla. Emma had the power to approve or disapprove if Cricket would be hopping into the back seat with her on the drive home.
I took a left at a long row of rural mailboxes with no evidence of where all these people lived. It was easy to imagine that these boxes were only checked periodically on the way into town for ‘supplies.’
Down another long gravel road, countryfolk and coyotes alike could see me coming as I raised a dust cloud that announced my arrival.
When I reached the small rescue ranch, which amounted to a double-wide trailer, we were greeted by Lauren who smiled and extended her hand.
Having lived in the southern US all my life, I had never seen a genuine cowgirl before, but there she stood as if she had been dressed by central casting at Universal Studios. Her hair pulled back in a braid, she wore a cowboy hat, tight blue jeans, a checkered shirt, and leather boots. A large knife was strapped to her belt that I imagined she used daily, and not just for peeling apples.
Behind the double-wide was a huge, corralled area that contained a mixture of gray swayback horses, two mules, and various three-legged goats. Various weather-beaten chickens scattered about with haggard-looking geese. It occurred to me that whoever ran this ranch was an angel of sorts who let old horses age with dignity and grace.
As I approached the trailer to meet Cricket, I was told that he was one of 16 dogs who resided on her bed because the air conditioner was in her bedroom. I waited on the porch as she went inside.
Within minutes, my boy bounded out. As mutts go, he was ordinary looking. White chest, ears straight up, white paws. Little did I know then that I would caress those soft ears thousands of times over the years.
Emma and Cricket met. They exchanged business cards, a.k.a. sniffed butts. All seemed well enough to give it a try. I gave the ranch-hand angel the required nominal fee for changing my life forever for the better.
I settled on a new name – nothing clever, indeed a much-used but rock-solid name for dogs: Jack. I often called him Jackie, and on occasion for fun, Jacqueline.
Happily, he was a total mutt:
Jack’s personality was so even-keeled – nothing fazed him. He wasn’t aggressive with people or other dogs, but he also wasn’t fearful. He was mellow with my cats and happy to let them head-butt him. If he had been human, I imagined he would be a laid back surfer dude who smoked s little too much weed.
He was intensely loyal as dogs usually are, following me from room to room wherever I would go.
He was not a big barker, just when people would come up to the house.
Jack was a huge sniffer compared to Emma and other dogs I’d had. He loved his walks and he loved to play in creeks and rivers.
And he was very huggable – he didn’t mind hugs at all–and was like having a living teddy bear.
I nearly lost him at age 13 to some illness, but he pulled through. Thirteen is already pretty old for a dog. He later had trouble with his hips. His back-end gradually weakened to the point he couldn’t go up and down the stairs without help. Both getting up off the floor and laying down were painful.
I gave him all manner of joint and other supplements that seemed to help some, as did some hemp oil. The surfer dude loved his ‘weed.’
I struggled to get him to eat enough, and he lost a lot of weight. His walks grew shorter and shorter. He slept the days away and I often looked closely to see if he was still breathing.
After almost sixteen years and an estimated 6,000 walks, last Friday I said goodbye to that pup who bounded off the porch of the rescue ranch and into my heart. At about 104 in human years, I didn’t want him to suffer anymore, even though I knew I would miss him terribly.
Well done, faithful friend. Thank you for your service. Until your last day on earth, you stood and came to me whenever I entered a room like I was royalty. You were the sweetest dog in the world. Thank you for loving me with your whole being. I became a better human because of you.
Jackie, I will love you forever. xoxo
Such a sweet friendship. I know you really loved Jack and will surely miss him. This is a lovely tribute to him.❤
Job well done, Jackie. I hope you were met on the other side of the rainbow bridge by my cat Charlie. He was a good old dog for a cat. He’s been there for almost two years now, so he’ll show you around in grand style. Charlie was a little cocky. Be at peace, Susan. Keep talking to him and know that you both were mightily loved.
I’m so sorry for what you’re going through. You wrote a beautiful tribute to Jack❤️. So many years of love.
What a lovely tribute! Our faithful Bernese mountain dog. Is traveling the same road. Our hearts hurts as I know yours does.
What a beautiful, loving tribute, Susan. It makes me feel like what it was to know Jack, a very special dog.
So sorry for your sadness. But then again you are blessed to be so sad, as he was so exceptional, and he was yours.
I love Jack’s story. What a lovely life. They will never be replaced, one of a kind. Thank you for adopting.
I volunteer at the Eden Valley Area Library, very small, rural library. We love your books.
Dear Ones. For years now I’ve told anyone who will listen that I have the sweetest readers in the world. Yet again, you are proving my point. Thanks so much for your kindness and thoughtfulness. I know Jackie was just a dog. BUT. He inspired me, and he was at my side with every book I wrote for you. He was there when I first got the idea for a book called Temple Secrets that I started writing in 2009. He was there every morning as I made my cup of tea and started to write the Wildflower books, and the Temple Secrets books, and Trueluck Summer, and he went with me when I did research at the Cherokee Museum when I wrote Circle of the Ancestors. Jackie never left my side. Thank you for getting it. Thank you for understanding. xoxox
May your heart ❤️ heal quickly with the thoughts of your dear friend jack
Oh Susan, My eyes are filled with tears just reading about Jack and all he meant to you. I can only imagine the hole in your heart, and the grief you must feel. My Rosie will not be far behind Jack. We are among the fortunate as our lives have been enriched beyond measure by a dog that chose us. With Heartfelt Sympathy, Barb
Dear Ones. For years now I’ve told anyone who will listen that I have the sweetest readers in the world. Yet again, you are proving my point. Thanks so much for your kindness and thoughtfulness. I know Jackie was just a dog. BUT. He inspired me, and he was at my side with every book I wrote for you. He was there when I first got the idea for a book called Temple Secrets that I started writing in 2009. He was there every morning as I made my cup of tea and started to write the Wildflower books, and the Temple Secrets books, and Trueluck Summer, and he went with me when I did research at the Cherokee Museum when I wrote Circle of the Ancestors. Jackie never left my side. Thank you for getting it. Thank you for understanding. xoxox
Susan, my heart breaks for you. I know the loss and the pain that you’re feeling now. Our little guy is 16 as well, and we see him failing more and more each day. We cherish every day we have left with him….knowing those days are numbered. Blessings to you!!! I know you and your Jack will be together again one day!
Susan,
What a beautiful tribute to Jack. It’s difficult losing a pet that has been a constant source of love in your life for years. I am so sorry for your loss.
Facing the same thing with our sweet 13 year old rescue pup. So many adventures we’ve had. To imagine life without her is almost impossible. Hugs to you dear lady. We are lucky to share our lives with critters.
Awwww, Susan…so sorry about Jack—but so happy for the obvious mutual love you shared…/tarra
That’s a beautiful story and tribute.
Thank you for sharing the story of your special friend.
I lost a precious little dog recently so I know at least partially how you feel. I try to hold on to the good memories.
What a beautiful love story. I am sorry for your loss. Some pets become such a part of us the loss is huge. Hoping the happy memories comfort you in your grief.
You expressed your love for Jack beautifully. I felt like I knew Jack after reading your story about him. What a blessing a beloved animal is and how hard it is to lose them. Hope you find another “Jack” in your life.
Thank you for your words. I have a sixteen year old boy going through the exact timeline. He has been a sweetie also and I do all I can to keep him comfortable as you did for Jack. I know his days are numbered and will be so sad when the time comes.
We are so sorry to read that Jack has passed. He was SUCH a sweet dog! It is so horribly difficult to lose our fur babies. Our thoughts and prayers are with you during this incredibly difficult time.
I have, over the years, been through this so many times. It is really hard to let them go, but it is even harder to see them suffer. You did the right thing to let him go even though it hurt and I know that he will always have a spot in your heart. I know your heart is big enough to find another “rescue” that will help you to heal. That is how I always got through it. I now have two that I rescued and they are the reason I get up every day and bring me so much joy.
Love your tribute to Jackie. Like you my pets became my “human like” friends. I know they understood and talked to me. I’ve had several dogs and cats in my 71 years and think of them fondly. My last “babies” were Calico sisters as different as night and day. Reesee loved to talk to me. Toffee was as sweet as honey. They were with me for 18 years. I cried buckets of tears when I lost each one only months apart. They now come and visit me at night after turning out the light. How I love feeling them make “biscuits” on my feet and legs. No I’m not crazy. But I do have contact from people dear to me also.
I adore reading your posts as much as your books. Looking forward to more.
Thanks for telling us about the Calico sisters. They sound so sweet! I didn’t think for a minute you were crazy. xo