Reluctantly Bob and I said good-bye to our Jessie girl.
Jessie was my baby from the first day I saw her. She was the only dog in the shelter who didn’t bark, and from the moment she sniffed, then licked, my hand I was totally in love. She came home with me the next day (the shelter wouldn’t let me take her until they did a home visit) and we had almost thirteen years together. Jessie was with me through two moves – one involving twenty hours in a car with crying cats, several jobs, going back to school and getting married. Bob may not have been the one to bring her home, but he loves her (almost) as much as I do.
In November the vet said her kidneys were failing and we only had a few months. In true Jessie fashion, she lived twice as long as expectated. She insisted on her daily walks until last week and while she was slow, she still wanted to say hi to everyone and search for rabbits. This week was tough; she was very sick and in the end, we knew it was time to say good-bye.
I recognize that she is a dog and dogs are not people, but she was my little girl and she depended on me. She greeted me every day and was always happy to see me. Jessie taught me what really accepting someone for who they are, not who you want them to be, means. She curled up with me when grandmom died (she was NOT a cuddle me puppy); she sat with me through Patches dying and greeted the kittens with such enthusiasm that they have aways been more her kittens than mine. I like to think she was happy and that she had a better life with me than she would have without.
Even though she was generally quiet (she could bark and she had some very healthy lungs) the house is quieter. Her presence is missed. It will be strange to come home and not have her greet me, to wake up and not check to see if she is where I step out of bed and to eat pizza without her drooling for the crusts and giving new meaning to the phrase, “puppy dog eyes.” She was family and she will be greatly missed.