There are too many "little things" that Jekyll does that have me reeling. How can I go on without them? Never seeing them again? I cannot imagine not having them in my life every single day. He is going to not be here one day, soon, and with each passing day I wonder, "Is this the last time he....?"
The "little things," his little personal idiosyncrasies, those special things he does, only he does, are the spirit of his independent originality. They are what makes him who he is,, so irreplaceable and magical. They are the pieces of his life that made me stop and take pause and leave me now feeling as if there will never be another perfect moment captured just like this. These are the things that largely no one else knows. They are what make us.
His life is the series of "little things" I don't want to imagine living without and never seeing again.
Here's to you my Jekyll-pup.. all your guts, glamour, and gluttony. I'm grateful for every second we had, until the very last of each of them.
Here's to all of your "little things" ....
At the base of the heart of every beagle resides two things; firm, steadfast, and consistent through the ages; love for all, and dedication to food.
The explosion of joy that was running for breakfast to be made. The running full tilt to the kitchen for breakfast. Getting up in the morning is the most wonderful moment of the day because FOOOOD!! comes after. The running of the bulls has nothing on the bellowing, bucking, bouncing race of the beagle to the kitchen.
The way he will greet anyone and everyone with the same gentle charming curiosity..
The howling for attention when Charlie was stealing the show. For the small number of times that Charleston (his older, quieter, less assuming pitbull mixed brother) had one second of attention Jekyll would howl to remind you that he was still here."
The digging for grubs. This pup of mine was gifted with a nose more acutely intelligent than any morsel of carbon (past-present-or-future), kernel, or remnant could elude. I tell people that "in the event of a Zombie apocalypse you need only grab Jek. He can find food in the desert." (Although convincing him to share it is another thing). He used to wait at my feet for the morning kibble to clink to home to his bowl. If I dropped a kibble he was on it faster than you could bend or grab. He has stopped doing this.. I miss his obsessive food frenzy. (I now beg and bargain to get food in his gullet).
The afternoons with the sunshine on his face the the nose on full alert. He was a proud unsurpassed valiant sentinel. He loved everyone he ever met, but you better have been invited to his house first.
The way he never misses a nap with his brother... Who always loved him more than he probably deserved. (Jek usually got his big brother into terrible situations and then abandoned him to catch the blame solo).
The racing through the fields, nose locked on the whisps of a scent left behind by a fellow fawn colored furry fieldfellow. He can track a molecule of aura like a gifted psychic. He is called. He cannot be dissuaded. And you cannot escape the millennia of hound genetics that built him.
The way he always understood, and hated, being the prodigy of a veterinarian. No other pup ever had to endure more intensive veterinary training, practicing, and care. The plight of a beagle is their compliance and docile demeanor. It is why beagles are the chosen breed for all of the testing and teaching done on dogs. I'm sorry Jek... I'll call it devoted care, you can call it biased training.
The fact that he will ALWAYS sneak on the couch when you are not looking.
The glass was always half full. We should all be so lucky to see the world through Beagle glasses. The world is his oyster, his grub-hub, his cornucopia of delectable delights.
The way you can take him anywhere,,, and he makes himself at home.
|Independent Brewery loves dogs! We love them too!|
The way I worship him.. (even though he probably doesn't love me as much as I love him too).
The wiggle dances on the bed. Nothing signifies true raw joy to be alive than his wiggle dance. Belly up, snorting face sniffs of exuberant glee, and an itch he cannot reach but doesn't give up on.
The utter deference to the cat who claimed him. He cannot walk. He cannot be. He is Jitterbugs bequeathed. I don't know why he never challenged that cat? But he never did. He never has. And there are days that I know he feels bad...really sick and painful bad... and still Jitterbug reminds him he has a cat to coddle.
The boy and the cat who claimed him.
All of those crazy ways he chooses to get himself comfortable. He is usually side split sway footed. He is a goof and it is endearing.
The front seat of the pick up truck. He has this crazy way of sitting half on your shoulder (if you are driving) and half on the seat. That way he can maintain balance and keep an eye on the road. He feels like a parrot on your shoulder and he is incorrigible.
The joy in how much he loves going for rides..
The shot gun of the Gator. It took a while to get him to ride in the Gator with us. Once he realized that the "Land of Abundant Opportunity" That Gator was his ride to the ends of the earth, the walls of his domain and the ticket to ride without having to over exert yourself. (He is a smart cunning cookie).
The perching the one leg and half butt cheek on your shoulder for stability and viewpoint, and how incredibly difficult it is to drive with a beagle perched on your shoulder and leaning on your head...
The low wag throwing himself at anyone else.
He has this way of greeting his old friends. He lowers his ears, he drops his back and bends at the knee. It is a curtsy as much as it is an invitation to be reminded how wonderful he thinks you are. That face. This one act of true loving affection is the one single thing that reminds me how precious he is. How lucky we all are to know him. He is love and gratitude and he dishes it out to those he truly loves.
|When he loves you he tells you...|
The snorting happiness,,, his way of expressing his own joy to no one but himself.
the sharp bark of alarm. He stands watch in repose. But, he is always on the job,,, even if it only looks like he is sleeping on his front porch couch.
|We call it "the perch." |
It is where he does his best work and works through all of the problems of the world.
The magnitude of his presence... maybe I am the only one who can feel it?.. but I know where he is even if I cannot see him or touch him.. I know if he is near, and I know if he isn't feeling well,,, lately, it feels as if it has been too much of the later.
The fishing anticipation. To everyone else who tried to go fishing at our pond I know he drove them nuts. The anticipation of a wiggly-jiggly-floppy fishy pops from the waters and slithers its way onto the bank. It is like Christmas! How else do you get delivery in the boonies?
All of these "little things" remind me how long our journey has been, how much we shared, how hard living with an obsessively independent, adventure driven boy intent on keeping the woods free of bunnies, deer and any other self indulgent bold soul is, and has been, and how much it will all be missed.
He is a companion to cuddle with as much as he is a force of nature to reckon with. He is, like all dogs we share our most quiet times, or most painful moments, and the tiny insignificant life defining moments that shape our concept of what our life means.
Until then, my friend, I am here for you until the end,,grubs, rubs, and all our "little things",,
More on Jekyll here;
Jekyll Loses His Tail Mo-Jo. Tail Droop.
The Things Only A Mom Knows. Planning for our pets lives beyond our own.
A Tribute To A Beagle, Jekyll.
Slowing Down Without Giving Up.
Threats to Impending Death, and a Vet Moms Promise
To all of you who have a pet that you adore, or have lost a pet and left you feeling lonely, I empathize. It is impossible to say goodbye. Know that the day is coming when they won't be here. I want to say it's ok to grieve. To mourn, to not know where to go, or what to do. I feel it too.
Be who you are. The most precious and beautiful parts of everything are fleeting. Savor and celebrate them even if they hurt later. The hurt will fade and the joyful memories live forever. Protect your compassion with everything that you are for it is your most valuable asset. And, lastly, go love again. There is another soul out there who will love you back and help you go on...
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