Flowers for Jackson

I had ran into Jackson and his dad at the vet's office a couple months back.  Jackson had been one of my foster dogs about 10 years ago.  The years were showing on him and he was slowing down like they do.  I had a message the other day letting me know that the time had come.  They were having the vet come to their home to perform the euthanasia and I was invited to attend.  Having cared for my first partner in his final days, and having done the same for a number of dogs since then, I have come to see that as a great honor.  It's a deeply personal moment and to be included in sharing that experience shows a great degree of trust and respect. 

Yellow Lantana

Jackson wasn't a puppy when we pulled him from the Louisa shelter, he was a young adult, maybe about three?  Rescue dogs with no known past are often assigned an arbitrary birthday based on our best guestimate of their age and the date that we get them out of a shelter and into a home.  In a sense they really are born again at that point, because very often their life before that time is best forgotten anyway.  In that sense then, I was with Jackson as he came full circle in life.



A younger Jackson

Jackson was a good looking dog, beautiful markings on his feet and lower legs, and a long, thick coat that enabled him to enjoy the snow.  He loved and was very protective of his family, but he wasn't always the easiest dog.  His adopter said of him, "He was hard to love sometimes, but aren't we all?"  That made me think of my late Gypsy, of course, and a number of other pain-in-the-ass dogs I've had and loved.
 

A pot of salvia

Three different sweet potato vines

It's easy to love the perfect dog, or the perfect person.  But having a dog that's sometimes hard to love teaches us about what it means to love.  To love unconditionally doesn't mean that you love everything about them or everything they do, but you love them in spite of those things.  When an adopter returns a dog after a few days or a few weeks or after a problem develops (because it's "not living up to their expectations") that says a lot more about the person than it does about the dog.

Problems are always going to develop, with a dog, with kids, with friends, family, people in general.  Making the commitment to love and care for another in spite of problems that develop is what makes us grow as human beings.  People who return a dog without trying to work through problems are missing out on much of the richness of life.  The difficult dogs are often the ones we hold most dear, just because we've been through so much together. 

I love all our dogs, of course, but among the many hundreds foster dogs we've had, it's the more difficult ones that I remember most.  Whether the difficulty was a health, age, or behavior issue that made placement difficult, I found I often developed a greater affinity for those dogs and held out higher standards for their placement, in part because I knew they would require someone who was capable of making a real commitment. 
 

Jackson was lucky and I was happy that he had led a good, long, full life where he had been truly loved and cared for.  Occasions such as today's are always sad, they are moments of loss for those that remain, but it was also a moment to celebrate a good life in a good home with good family.  I know that Jackson contributed to that home as much as he got from it, in spite of, and maybe even because of the fact that he wasn't always "easy to love." 

Jackson enjoying the snow