This has been tough to sit down and write. A little over a week ago now we lost our Jake-dog. He had been in declining health for some weeks with what was probably chronic kidney failure. He was only 8 years old. As it was with Catfish, it is particularly hard to lose a pet at such a young age. We certainly did not expect to lose him so soon. I'm having trouble writing this is no small part because Jake was Tray's dog. Jake followed him everywhere like a shadow. He was cool with me, and protective when I was pregnant with Penny, but mostly I was "she who brings food when Daddy's not here." Tray always tells the story of meeting Jake. Little known fact: Jake's actual, original name was Bentley. "Bentley" was a Christmas morning gift dog. The couple who bought him soon realized that a lab puppy needs a lot of attention and in the absence of it will chew your house to shreds. They decided to find a new home for him. Tray went to check him out. All the adults were standing in the kitchen talking, "Bentley" came running around the corner, leash in mouth, and ran right up to Tray as if to say, "ok, take me home now." We renamed him Jake and he's been part of our family ever since.
He was a cute little puppy with very sharp teeth. He aggravated Lindy to no end. The way he lapped water out of his dish was one of the most adorable things I've ever seen (babies included). He knew how to fetch a stick on the very first throw. I had to teach Lindy to fetch, to sit, to stay, even to swim. Jake just knew how to do those things as a matter of instinct. The only thing he wouldn't do is jump into the back of the truck. He wouldn't even jump into the backseat of my Civic (which is inches off the ground). We'd spend entire afternoons trying everything we could think of to encourage him to jump. We built elaborate jump practicing stations out of tree stumps and boards. Finally, finally one day he could do it.
He was the best cat-defender around. If ever Catfish or Mullet escaped the house, Jake would always attempt to corral them and/or herd them back inside the house. If we ever let the cats out for a supervised walkabout, he'd hover right near them because he knew they weren't supposed to be outside.
When we first moved to our house in Woodville, Jake's foot got injured somehow. We never did find out what happened despite repeated searches of the yard. He was in surgery for several hours to repair it, and it was a very near thing that he got to keep his foot. The vets had him in one of those e-collars to keep him from chewing off his bandages. He made it clear that he wanted the collar off, and we took it off, but he never attempted to chew the bandage even once. He allowed me to wrap his foot in a plastic bag every time he had to go out for a bathroom break so his bandages wouldn't get wet in the grass. Once the bandages came off, he never tried licking the medicine off. He was a very patient dog.
Penny always liked hugging him because he was so soft. Lindy and Artie are both wire-textured. Lindy's kind of like an otter: slick and short haired. Jake was fluffy and almost more like a golden retriever than a lab (even though he was AKC registered pure-blood lab). Several people mistook him for a golden retriever. He was definitely more golden colored than your usual yellow lab. He was a good hugger.
He was quiet, reserved, thoughtful, lovable, friendly, snuggly, wild-and-crazy on cool fall mornings, and Tray's best friend. We will all miss him very much.
