Stuff From Jeffland

We have three other dogs, but none was more tied to Jack than Patches was. Patches was the first doggie. She was the one I got 7 years ago as a tiny, fuzzy little thing of 8 weeks. By 2001 we found Jack and knew that Patches needed a playmate beyond the cat.

We never knew what Jack's actual age was. When we got him from the Rescue group, they told us he was 8 months to a year old. By the time all the dye washed out and his true color came forth a trip to the vet told us that he was actually more like 2 or 3, maybe even 4 - 5 based on plaque and his teeth. Not that we love him any less for being dyed black, in fact, that made us love him even more.  read more »

I posted this just this afternoon, Friday, Sept 28. Jack went to the bridge this morning, just before Noon with the help of Dr. Weisler from Pittsboro Veterinary Hospital who came to the house and helped him on his way. I'll miss him dearly.

Well, you know what they say about the best laid plans... We thought
we had until Saturday afternoon. Dr. Betton was scheduled to come to
our house and help Jack on his way, but that was not to be. Last
night we were up very late with him, rubbing him, scratching him
behind the ears and on that spot on his belly that always made him
smile. He tried sleeping, but he just couldn't sleep. In the span of
just a couple days it had become almost impossible for him to breath
in most prone positions. He finally found a comfortable one and
managed to sleep through the night, though on occasion he would
struggle to draw a breath in past the blockage that we now know had
even grown into his throat.

There was no waiting, so this morning we called around and finally
found a vet that had the time to make a house call. We really wanted
Dr. Betton to do it, because he had a way with Jack that no vet has
ever had, but Dr. Betton had a surgery in another county to do this
morning and could not make it. He apologized profusely as we hung up
the phone.

Jack got his steak. Just like I promised him, I fed him by hand and
he got a full pound of the best steak I could find. Then we took him
outside. It's gorgeous here today. It's warm without being hot here
in Central North Carolina, somewhere in the 70s to low 80s with barely
a cloud in the vast blue sky. There's a slight breeze that's blowing
in from the southwest that is just strong enough to cool things off
just a bit more, and to swirl the tops of the pine trees.

Jack spent his last hours outside today, in the yard where, just 5
years ago, he and Patches went tearing across at a time it was just a
dirt field before they had even started putting our house in. He laid
in the grass, and on occasion would stand up, walk around and pick a
new spot to pay in the sun. The warmth seemed to help him greatly
too. He was panting from being warm, but for the first time in ages,
it seemed he was doing so without wheezes, rattles, or gurgles. He
drank probably a gallon of water throughout the morning as we held the
dish for him to enjoy.

We sat out with him all that time in the yard. Scratching his ears,
rubbing his chest and back, he even rolled over a couple times for one
of those famous belly scratches that he was such a sucker for. He
wagged his tail for us when we talked to him, he came to us when we
called him and pressed himself against my leg. When the vet arrived,
he even barked for us, letting us know one last time that there was
someone here.

We led Jack over to the shade, and at right around 11:50 this morning,
I fulfilled my last promise to the little black dog that stole our
hearts all those years ago. I held him in my arms to the end, with
him draped across my lap the same way he had done so many times before
when he would just hop on the couch and plop himself across my thighs.
I held him tight to me as the doctor did what she was there to do,
and I felt him give that last involuntary shudder just before the doc
told us that he was gone.

My Jack, my little black Jack, the dog with the green eyes, the solid
black dog that turned silver in the bath water because the rescue
group had dyed him black for more adoptability, the black Jack that
loved licking peanut butter jars clean, the Jack that would do his
stupid Snoopy dance for me when I came home and just HAD to have a
something in his mouth when he greeted you, the Jack that lived for
scratches and rubbies, who never begged, never tried to sneak food off
the table or counters, the Jack who was seemingly afraid of everything
but us, Jack who never quite learned to play went to the Bridge this
morning.

I imagine that he went to sleep in my arms, with my voice in his ears
telling him how he was such a good boy, how I loved him with all my
heart, how I'd see him again one day, then awoke in that green field
next to the creek, to learn to play with the other dogs there and wait
for me to come for him. I am sure there'll be plenty of peanut butter
and french fries there for him to munch on, but I just hope there is
someone there to give him his belly scratches.

This was also posted on Sept 26 to the Border Collie List:

Before I head home for the day, I wanted to thank you all again for
the warm thoughts and the advice. I realize that ultimately, I have
to make the decision, and rest assured I do not plan on doing so until
I know more about what this is. As I said earlier, that is part of my
dilemma. I want to make sure he doesn't suffer but I need to ensure
that when the decision is made, it is not made because I am
emotionally wrecked, but because it is what is best for him.  read more »

This was posted on Sept 26 to BC-L. A day after I started the final Jack thread:

wanted to take a moment and thank everyone for the kind thoughts,
prayers and wishes. I have to admit, it helps a lot, so Thank You
All.

Sadly, hope is fading fast. My wife called the Vet this morning to
ask about the biopsy results but they had not come in yet (not
surprising). Jack seems to be getting worse. His face is still
swollen. His whole face is swollen and we think that is a side effect
of the pain med they gave him after the biopsy. I am hoping that is
the case. He is off that medicine now, so it's just a waiting game to
see if the swelling goes down.

The bad thing is that he is now blind as well... at least,
technically he is blind. The third eyelid on each eye is up and
covering the eyes almost completely. I think he can still see light
and dark through them, but barely enough to move around, and that has
him terrified. He is afraid to walk anywhere, and the cone on his
head makes it difficult for him to find direction by sound. We are
having to take it off every time we want to move him somewhere so he
can hear what direction we are calling from.  read more »