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Saying Goodbye to Our Best Friend
What Jake taught me in his too short life
This afternoon my daughter called me, bawling.
“Daddy, Jake isn’t feeling well. He’s throwing up and his breathing is shallow. I think he’s dying.”
My chest tightened as I listened and tried in vain to console her.
We were an hour away
My son works with me. I knew he’d want to say goodbye should the worst happen.
By the time he clocked out, his phone rang.
I was waiting at the car for him to arrive. His face told the whole story.
“Jake’s dead.” Tears flowed from his eyes like a waterfall.
We men are pretty tough. We don’t cry for just anything. But this hurt worse than being the loser in a boxing match that just went 15 rounds.
I felt some moisture in my left eye.
As we drove home, my son and sat in silence for a few minutes. Slowly, we recounted the good things Jake gave us.
He loved unconditionally
Drew said, “No matter how bad a day I’ve had, Jake could make it better.”
When we came out to see him, he’d run out of his house and wag his tail nonstop. He sniff…
