I had every intention of posting a week of thankful posts this week, but work has been really busy and Jake has had a bad legs week so I am going to try to push those posts to next week.
Instead, I will get out my gotcha post to Jake. He came to us two years ago on Thanksgiving weekend, so instead of picking a day, we decided to always celebrate (poetically) on Thanksgiving.
My dearest Jake, on the drive to get you I kept asking myself ‘what in the world are you going to do with a little dog’? Little (pun intended) did I know how big you’d end up being in my life (and since your neck is currently the same size as Melvin’s…). When you came into our home, my sole goal was integration. Making room for you, without taking room from Melvin. Setting you (and me) up for success. It was exhausting watching your every move (you were mischievous), and training you to co-exist. You would sit and stare at us FOR HOURS. I had no idea why. My only guess was that you sat and waited a lot in your previous life. But we would have none of that, we tried to show you that you didn’t have to wait for your life to begin, it was happening already. One day you stopped sitting and staring and joined in, one of the best days ever.
You being here makes sense. A lot of that has to do with how I view health issues and how I approach challenges. My guess is, if you had not been given up at five-years-old because your family had no time for a second dog, they certainly would have given up on you when your legs started to fail. You were meant to be mine. I’m not sure what happened to your spine, the doctors are not even sure how one spine can be so messed up, but it also doesn’t matter what happened. You are you and your legs don’t work great and you pee without knowing you are peeing and you shoot out meatballs in your sleep. People see you and say ‘poor Jake’ but I don’t see that. I see Jake who runs even if his legs don’t cooperate. I see Jake who knows to pause when he comes into the house because I have to put his diaper back on. I see Jake who seeks out time with Melvin, even when Melvin runs and hides. We all persevere together.
The past two years feel like much longer, in a good way. You have provided more laughter than TV ever could. I’ll provide the diapers if you provide the comedy. I love that I still have no idea what you are looking at. My guess is that you will surpass your brother in terms of health issues. I was not sure that was possible but no matter what, we will figure it out.
I love you nugget, with all my heart and I promise you that this is your forever. There is nothing you can rain down on us that will ever make us abandon you (not that you need to see this as challenge). I promise to stay strong so I can carry you when you need it and Melvin promises to pull your cart if I get tired. If you could promise to not bite his face or legs, that’d be great too!
The drive from your foster home to your forever home. You fell asleep sitting up.
Your first Christmas with us (and my guess is, your first bow tie).
Your first custom-made jacket.