I was walking Jamocha last night in the moonlight which was casting a weird array of shadows across the landmarks of our neighborhood. Nothing jumped out at me, fer crissakes its Flagstaff – the only thing that jumps out at you is the eclectic mix of beaten and beautiful homes, and the sharp disparity between the “have’s” and the “just have enough’s” to stay and play here.
What stood out was the fact that my old girl, Jamocha, is winding it down. She’s almost 12, and you can see every ounce of her age reflected on the outside of her purebred body. She sleeps - a lot; the white fur on her jaw, paws, and eyebrows is slowly replacing the chocolate brown that she was born with. I know she’s OK today though. For she eats her food like she did from the day I got her – like it’s her last meal. We all feel that the day she doesn’t wake up with a voracious appetite is the day I’ll put her down.
I don’t know if this will be her last summer, but it feels like it based on how rudimentary her movements and reactions have become. I’m not ready for her to go because selfishly she’s a symbol of the last 12 years of my life. When I look at her, memories blast through my head like quick movie previews. Jamocha’s “career highlights” include almost dying from a lunch of D-Con rat poison, eating 20 pounds of dog food in an afternoon, three successful surgeries for random wounds, and a near-death experience from dehydration.
It goes without saying that my relationships with D, Lyza, family and friends far exceed any bond I have ever had with an animal. Jamocha though….she has a leash around me right now and I’m cool with that. Whatever that old girl needs – she gets.
What stood out was the fact that my old girl, Jamocha, is winding it down. She’s almost 12, and you can see every ounce of her age reflected on the outside of her purebred body. She sleeps - a lot; the white fur on her jaw, paws, and eyebrows is slowly replacing the chocolate brown that she was born with. I know she’s OK today though. For she eats her food like she did from the day I got her – like it’s her last meal. We all feel that the day she doesn’t wake up with a voracious appetite is the day I’ll put her down.
I don’t know if this will be her last summer, but it feels like it based on how rudimentary her movements and reactions have become. I’m not ready for her to go because selfishly she’s a symbol of the last 12 years of my life. When I look at her, memories blast through my head like quick movie previews. Jamocha’s “career highlights” include almost dying from a lunch of D-Con rat poison, eating 20 pounds of dog food in an afternoon, three successful surgeries for random wounds, and a near-death experience from dehydration.
It goes without saying that my relationships with D, Lyza, family and friends far exceed any bond I have ever had with an animal. Jamocha though….she has a leash around me right now and I’m cool with that. Whatever that old girl needs – she gets.
Love the FudgeDog... even though she took me out at the knees with a 3" diameter log that she thought was a good carrying stick on the way up Mt. Humph.
ReplyDeleteJamocha is a sweetie. This was a nice tribute to her, Shek Mo.
ReplyDelete