A BUNDLE OF FUR

            Everyone who has a pet knows the joy they bring into your life. The time spent with these special friends is priceless and the bond that connects can’t help but pull at your heart strings. But over time our special friend’s age and their health declines to the point that they begin to suffer. Finally you are confronted to make the awful decision if it is time to make a final visit to the vet. This is probably one of the most excruciatingly painful experiences anyone can face.

            Toby was my “better half’s” constant companion for 15 years. He was always by her side and gave nothing but unconditional loyalty and love. When walking him people would stop and pet him and say how cute he was. Then, invariably, they would ask his breed. Our stock answer was “… he’s Corgi on the bottom and handsome stranger on top.” And it was the truth. He was the sweetest little guy who never once in his life barked! But then the final day came and an incredible emptiness and sorrow entered into our lives.

            We swore we would never own another dog—Toby was it! The pain of separation was too much to ever endure again.

            About two months passed when I got a call on my cel phone. It was my “better half.” “Hey,” she greeted me, “…I’m on the computer and looking at some little pups and they are adorable,” she said. So the hook was set! But before making a decision we called our son who is a breeder of standard poodles, groomer, trainer, dog show judge and author of a published dog book, “How Much is That Doggie in the Window.”

“Heck, if you and mom want a pup I can get you anything you want,” he said. We thought about it and decided we wanted a “pure bred” alright but the breed we wanted was a “pure bred mutt.” And that is how Jake came into our lives.

            He was only about five months old when he was running wild around San Diego, California fields. Trying to catch him was an adventure in itself we were told, but finally he was caught and placed in a “kill” shelter awaiting the inevitable. But a small miracle occurred. Someone from a rescue shelter came across him and took him to a safe home operated by Maria Brunetto for placement.

Soon after my “better half” was again on the computer and contacted the shelter. She saw one little pup that might fill the bill, she thought, but after talking with Maria she was advised to take this little floppy ear ball of fur who now runs our lives and house. It turned out that this little guy was the worse of two breeds Havanese and poodle and weighed in at 18 pounds. The reason I say he is the “worse of two breeds” is because the Havanese is noted for stubbornness and strong will. The poodle is noted for high intelligence so when you match the two together-- well, you know what I mean!

            It took four days to ship him by van to our home. Those four days were spent cooped in a cage along with other dogs being delivered to their new “forever homes.” As a consequence whenever we drive Jake finds it necessary to stand between my “better half” and myself as we drive. He doesn’t just stand there however; he places his two front legs on my right arm to look out the front window. I am sure passerby’s wonder which one of us is driving!

            The first three days in his new home was one of exploration. He was terrified when we first got him and when Kathleen held him in her arms for the first time he was shivering and frightened not knowing what to expect. Yet he never whimpered a bit. But after a few days—and exploring his new surroundings he settled in. After a month he was becoming a “mom and dad’s boy.” But even after a few months later he remained shy of people. Anyone trying to pet him he would back away and cower behind us. The reason, our son thinks, is because of his experience running wild and people trying to catch him. But now a year has passed and he is slowly letting strangers come near but he still won’t let them pet him.

            Watching him sleep is hilarious. He will be in his bed or sleeping at our feet or on the sofa and he will begin to softly bark and growl. Whatever puppy dreams he is having are surely something only a dog psychiatrist could explain. When awake he never barks but if he wants your attention—especially for a taste of dinner or to play—he will sit at our feet and let out a soft growl and stare you down until you respond.

            So now after the passage of over a year he is more than part of the family. After losing Toby we thought the hole that was left in our hearts could never be filled. And it is true; Toby can never be replaced but the hurt is replaced by the love and joy that this little floppy ear ball of fur has brought. He is not a replacement but rather a new happiness that only Jake can fill.