To my darling little Jacques January 11, 2003- August 29, 2016
Stop that dog we yelled as you bounded for the entry way to the San Francisco Airport, so eager to pee after your long flight
That was how we met, you peeing upside down on your back when we reached you right before you escaped to the street
You the feisty jet black cocker, stoic in puppyhood, always my little Buddha dog
What a difference from the gentle old dog I stroked as you quietly transitioned to a better place
No longer burdened by a haunting appetite but unable to eat, living on pain pills and other meds designed to help you with your awful disease
Had I kept you with me too long, unable to do without you, not wanting the task of ending your life but knowing your body was no longer allowing you to live it
My quiet shadow, my little man, happy to sit back and watch others as long as we were together
And how you loved your pizza, and vocalized to let us all know you expected your fair share
Invisible in the night with your blackness, frightened I would lose you as you silently went about your business blending into the darkness, especially when we were camping.
And how wonderful when I could attach a glow stick to your soft, pitch black little body and watch it magically move as you explored your terrain.
We did so much together, Nevada, Texas, Florida and we saw so much. You as a puppy, agile and limber, playing crazy games like hide and seek as you roamed the Texas home
You and I up and walking hundreds of nights to fight your horrible allergy. And when you got too tired to walk with your aging knees, you riding regally in your all-terrain stroller, quietly surveying the landscape as you moved your head from side to side
How sad it was for me your last walk when you were too weak to stand up, yet willing to go if I wanted you to
Always willing to do anything as long as you could be by my side. You were my little stealth cocker, moving silently from place to place, always only a few inches from wherever I was
And how old and white and swollen you had gotten, so ready to transition out of your old bloated body so you could again run and jump and frolic, all in your conservative, gentlemanly little way
I will miss you terribly. Your shadow by my side, your relaxed countenance in the stroller as we explored and your presence near my bed every night; always diligent, always there
Your continuous love
With every passing some part of me is gone, vacant, and some part rejoices in the privilege of having that special bond
I will miss you every time I now take out one dish for one dog, see the plethora of pills you no longer need, see the old stroller without an occupant, the empty space your bed used to occupy, or see all the wonderful things you loved to eat that you were deprived of in your final illness
Good night my darling, darling little man. May you now be free and unencumbered, light as a feather and joyous once again. You are so loved and will be missed so very, very much.