CALLING ALL DOG LOVERS.....

What a community of dog lovers! Almost everyone we know has one dog or more, had a dog, wants a dog. I've had several over the years, "Patches" was our most memorable, that dog could almost talk.

But as I mentioned in a previous Blog, "Jade" was a sweet chocolate Lab puppy that we adopted from a family on the Snake road. We thought a puppy would be a great distraction from the disappointment of missing out on our new home build that the kids had been so excited about. We brought B.J. and Chance along with us to pick out a puppy for our family and they fell for Jade. They were so excited to have a puppy of their own that they promised us the moon.

They'd feed her.

They'd walk her.

They'd water her.

They'd play with her and teach her tricks.

And these are the same scenarios in a thousand homes with children and a puppy. Our girls were in their mid-teens by now, and loved Jade, but were less excited. They had lots of things going on. Now, a dog lover I am not, but I'm also the first one to say, "Is there ANYTHING cuter than a puppy?" And Labs are so sweet, with those big floppy ears, and they just lunge at you for attention.

We picked up a new dish for Jade and toys and she settled in. In front of our woodstove was an oval braided rug, and that's where she loved to lay. It was warm and soft and she could hear and see what was going on. When she was old enough we had her spayed, and she was so friendly, as Labs usually are. She was very social and liked nothing better that a stranger at the door to jump on.

And of course, as the weeks went on, Jade was growing so fast! The boys tried hard to teach her tricks, but it turns out Jade wasn't the brightest bulb on the tree. She'd run to "fetch" but she wouldn't give you the stick back. That sort of thing.

And then the novelty of having a dog started to wear off.

Her dish didn't get filled or cleaned. No one was taking her for a walk. Her leash hung useless on a hook by the phone. And the back yard was filling up with landmines of dog poop that didn't get scooped. Jamie was on the oil truck full time. I didn't get home from work til supper. The boys, however, got off the bus around 3:30, so the dog was their job and responsibility.

So it soon fell to Jamie to poop scoop. Not fair. And although walking her wasn't a big issue, since I walked all the time, that wasn't the point. The boys weren't keeping up their end of the bargain. My legs aren't the only thing that's short. My temper is too.

One day I decided I'd had enough. Jade was a few months old now, and as cute as a button. But most of her care was falling on Jamie and me, and the kids were ignoring her. That wasn't part of the deal. I realized that perhaps I'd been hasty in getting a dog. After all, they are a big responsibility.

It all came to a head one day after school when I was cranky about something and I flew off the handle over the dog. I warned the kids that things had better change, or Jade was leaving. And as kids are wont to do, they promptly ignored me. So I simmered for a few days but it became obvious that the kids couldn't care less about the dog. And I was already busy enough without a fifth child, so one morning after the school bus left, I made a decision. I called the Humane Society and had them come pick Jade up to have her adopted somewhere else. I boxed up her bed and leash and all her belongings and they went with her. I was pretty silent throughout the whole ordeal and it seemed to have a sense of unreality, as that van left my yard. She was so happy to go with the guys, she was always excited to go for a drive!

Then it struck me. An instant pain shot through my chest. I started to bawl. What had I just done? People will think I'm insane, to throw a puppy away just because the kids weren't all that interested in her. In all fairness, the optics didn't look too good. I hadn't told anybody what I was going to do, they weren't going to believe me. This time, when the bus dropped the kids off after school, there would be no dog wagging her tail off to greet them. Would they even miss her? I was about to find out.

"Where's Jade, Mom?"

"Where's Jade's bed, Mom?"

And non too gently I told them, "Well, how many times did I have to beg you guys to feed her or take her for a walk? Do you think your father has nothing better to do than clean up dog poop? You promised you'd help. And I warned you I'd get rid of her. Well, I kept my end of the bargain. You didn't."

And even as I said it, I realized how hateful that sounded. I was devastated at what I'd done.

Jade sure loved the shore!

Well, they ran upstairs to cry, and I stood at the kitchen window and cried. And every time I glanced at the spot where her dish used to be, I'd get that stab of pain.

I had made a huge mistake.

I phoned my brother Darrell and told him the story. He was as calm as a cucumber. Darrell absolutely loved Jade, and she loved him. He is and always was a dog person, but he understood my reasoning too.

I visited my next door neighbor and sat at his bar and poured my heart out. He was a child social worker, and a dyed-in-the-wool dog owner, and didn't judge my actions. Which was good, because no one was harder on me than me.

He thought about it for a second, because he too, got to know and love Jade. And he said, "Well, you made your point. With kids, you have to draw a line and give them boundaries. When you say you're going to do something, and it has consequences, as a parent you have to stick to it. They'll never trust you if you don't. So you gave them a choice: care for the dog or she's gone. And now they know that when you say something, you're going to mean it. And you may not believe me, but that's good parenting 101. It sounds strange, but it builds trust."

I was glad of the talk and the common sense that it made, but I'd hurt a lot of people. My children most of all. They'd probably never forgive me. I know they understood, but now they missed the dog. There wasn't much chatter for the next morning or two, with no Jade to wave good bye to as they headed for the bus.

Then three days or so after the "disappearance" Darrell dropped in on his way to work. And as he got out of the car who should appear at his feet......you guessed it.....Miss Jade! In true Darrell fashion, he simply went to the animal shelter and "bought" her back; luckily she hadn't been adopted out. She was so happy to see him, she definitely knew him, she almost wagged her little tail completely off!

Well, I bawled til I was useless. Not so much with happiness to see her, but knowing how happy the kids would be.

And they were. They were over the moon to see her that day after school, and all was good again. Except this time, without it being mentioned, dog poop got cleaned up. She was fed and her dish rinsed out. She was petted and hugged and loved.

But unbeknownst to anyone, I had a huge apology to make.

So as soon as I was alone with Jade, I hit my knees on that little oval rug and gathered her into my arms and hugged her. I cried, and she just nuzzled into my neck and stayed there. I told her I was sorry, it had nothing to do with her. None of my decisions had been her fault. I told her I would make sure she was taken good care of and loved. We were her family forever. And she was just quiet, like she understood me. I just stayed there on the floor with her until I felt better. I was spent. That's the thing about dogs right? They don't judge. If they did, some of us would be sadly lacking.

Did she still get caught under my feet from time to time? You bet, since she never left my side. She was always at my feet.

Did she sneak upstairs to sleep on the beds every chance she got? You want to believe it!

Did she beg at the table? Well, why not!

Jade grew to be a good mid -size dog, with almost a zero appetite, she was a very light eater. Sometimes we'd hear her snacking at her dish in the middle of the night, the tags on her collar clinking on the dish.

She barked and bellowed at the door everytime someone knocked, not because she was cross. Just instinctively, I believe she was protecting us at all times. Especially if I was home alone with her.

Every time Darrell would drop in, she'd go ape shit to see him, I don't think until her dying day that she ever forgot his rescue! He was her hero. He brought her back to her family. Darrell had a wonderful relationship with her.

She loved to run on the flats when we walked on the shore, just like any silly dog. And in the days when Jamie used his little aluminum boat, he's toss her a rope, and she was strong enough to pull it as she swam. She loved the water, so she fit right in.

We made regular appointments to have her groomed, and she loved it! The staff made such a big deal out of her, and sent her home smelling gorgeous, all buffed and puffed. She got treats and a ribbon on her collar, she was so spoiled.

Jade started slowing down at about twelve years of age or so, instead of taking a running jump to get up on the deck, she walked a step at a time, until we realized that she needed help. The vet said a lot of dogs that size and age have trouble with their hips. And then one day we noticed a lump on the top of her head. And one night she vomitted profusely, it was upsetting. She was so sick.

The next morning I had to go to work, I was at Johnson's Shore Inn, and Jamie took her to the vet. The news wasn't good.

Jade was full of cancer. She was fourteen years old, and had had a good life. The doctor didn't recommend any treatments, it was just a matter of time and she was suffering. So we sent her over the rainbow bridge that day and spent the next few days crying. We removed her bed, her dish and leash and her favorite toy, a Smurf stuffy.

It took a while to get used to her being gone, we'd just automatically go to call her, or fill her dish.

Until she died, for some unknown reason, I remained her favorite human. She would listen to me, and accompany me on many hikes. If I went down the basement, she would follow me, thanks to Darrell, as she was terrified of the steps at first, until one day Darrell had enough. He just grabbed her collar and dragged her down the stairs. She never hesitated again, she ran down after that. I learned a lesson in humility because of Jade, and a lesson in patience, as I'm sure our boys would have eventually come around.

The odd time we mention a dog; two of our kids have fur babies, as they call them, and we did the best we could for Jade in the fourteen years we had her. I have no desire for a puppy now, and I don't regret having had Jade. I have very few regrets in my life, but "getting rid of the dog" is right up there at the top. I'm not proud of what I did. But I like to let the past stay in the past.

Like our many, many memories of "Jade."