It's been a week since Jack died and I can now almost talk about it. And actually, I don't want to talk about his death.
If I could talk to him again, I would tell him how honored I was to share his life, and what a priviledge it was to take care of him.
He is missed by all of us who shared his space. Harley is bewildered, Poppy runs into the house and looks for him every day. This is an odd statement, but our house feels empty now. I never liked beagles, never wanted one, when Jack came into my life, we had such a hard time learning how to live with each other... but somewhere Jack crept under my skin.
I ran up to a friend of mine at an agility trial this weekend to hug her beagle, I needed a beagle fix, Jack did that to me.
I miss his ears - which were miles longer than most beagles, I miss his crooked eyes and his elvis sneer, I miss his awful recall, I would call him, he would wag his tail, give me a crooked grin and saunter away, I miss his greeting, when I opened the gate to the yard, he would start this horrible yodeling, it was lightyears away from a beagle bay, sort of like a whale song in beagle-ese. I miss his merkat imitation that could be had by saying F-ing A to him. And who would have ever thought he would be the number one puppy raiser -
I never realized that there was a finite amount of beagle to go around and that he would be gone someday. That day happened last weekend.
If I could talk to him again, I would tell him how honored I was to share his life, and what a priviledge it was to take care of him.
He is missed by all of us who shared his space. Harley is bewildered, Poppy runs into the house and looks for him every day. This is an odd statement, but our house feels empty now. I never liked beagles, never wanted one, when Jack came into my life, we had such a hard time learning how to live with each other... but somewhere Jack crept under my skin.
I ran up to a friend of mine at an agility trial this weekend to hug her beagle, I needed a beagle fix, Jack did that to me.
I miss his ears - which were miles longer than most beagles, I miss his crooked eyes and his elvis sneer, I miss his awful recall, I would call him, he would wag his tail, give me a crooked grin and saunter away, I miss his greeting, when I opened the gate to the yard, he would start this horrible yodeling, it was lightyears away from a beagle bay, sort of like a whale song in beagle-ese. I miss his merkat imitation that could be had by saying F-ing A to him. And who would have ever thought he would be the number one puppy raiser -
I never realized that there was a finite amount of beagle to go around and that he would be gone someday. That day happened last weekend.
What a good friend he was - he kept all his promises to me.
Jackie B, we still miss you
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