This is new territory for us, life without Blind Dog.

We are all having a bit of trouble adjusting.

For SweetGuy, the mornings when she snores and snorts are the hardest.  For each of the rest of us, there are just those moments when it is all too real, and all too final, yet also all too unreal.

After the intial shock of her loss, the one I worry about the most now is Berzerker:

Jas (Blind Dog) was his alpha dog.  Jas was his guiding light.  I don’t think it’s much of a stretch to say that Blind Dog was at the least a calming influence on Berzerker, and at the most, his perceived protector.

Thankfully, Berzerker has had little time to be alone.  But, when he gets glimpses of it… like in the middle of the night… he is pretty distraught. 

I know, like the rest of us, he will eventually be OK.   But, I’m so sad he has to experience life without Jas for effectively the first time ever. 

Who knows what Berzerker actually thinks or reasons about the new situation.  It’s safe to say this dog dude is not the alpha-iest dog in the pen.  After all, he witnessed the BLIND dog escape from the dog run time and time again, and was not intelligent enough to follow suit.

Nevertheless, I wish I could make it all better for him.  Just like I wish I could make it all better for the rest of us.

But.  We have memory, after memory, after awesome memory of Blind Dog.  Those are the things I shall cherish at this moment.

She has just been an integral part of this family for 13 years.

She has just provided us with more laughs and smiles than I could have ever imagined possible from an animal.

She was fine at noon today.

She was terrified and very, very sick at 12:15.

She remained terrified and we knew it was not right to allow her to suffer.

With the four of us touching her, and holding her, and telling her it would be OK, and that we loved her, she was delivered from her misery in a matter of seconds.

It was the right thing to do.

But it doesn’t feel that way.  We want her back where she belongs and where she is so very comfortable.  She should be sniffing out food.  She should be pawing us while we sit at the table.  She should be bumping her way around the house.  She should be prancing at the sound of the food bowl.  She should be rubbing her nose into our freshly shampood hair.  She should be standing in the doorway of our bedroom cajoling us to go to sleep.  She should be flopping down begging for a belly rub.  She should be racing out the door, even at 13 years old, with her wiggling hips, determined to get to her destination.  She should be snoring in tandem with SweetGuy.  She should be excitedly sniffing out the bread he’s tossed her this morning, and every morning.  She should be prancing, and circling, and raising her front paws a mere inches off the ground signaling her form of a “jump”.  She should be the object of the Jasmine game — created only for her. 

The memories of our pup flood in at this moment.  And what strikes me most about this?  It’s the shere ABUNDANCE of memories.  She permeates the fabric of our lives for the last 13 years. 

I am thankful on this day that she went so quickly.  Cliche I am sure, but I am so glad she did not suffer for long.  I am thankful on this day for Magoo and Bud taking care of her.  They were at home when she suddenly took so ill.  After a quick call, we agreed to meet at the vet’s office.  I pulled up behind them and witnessed Magoo running around the van to open the door, Bud lifting the suffering large Jaz, and the two of them carrying her inside.   It broke my heart – their love for this dog.

I am thankful the four of us - no, the five of us - were together at the end.

I am thankful for an animal doctor who has known Jasmine since she was a pup and who loved her for who she is.  And who has always acknowledged and appreciated us for taking care of our animals.  As silly as this will sound to some, I believe that Jasmine trusted him as much as we did and I am so grateful he was the one to help us through these final terrible moments with such grace.

I am thankful to have been able to bring our dog home to her final resting place.  That we have land, and a beautiful shaded spot by her beloved pond, and a backhoe to dig her grave.  This is the right place for her.  We all know so.

I am thankful from the time she exhibited sickness a mere hours ago, to the time we laid her in the ground, she recieved such an outpouring of love.  DustMeister, The White Rose, Little Cuz far off in TX, Jakester, AUBS!, Emmy, Singing Sally, Nanni, Grace, and Jaz’s special buddy (and one of our best friends) Annie gathered to be with us as we laid her in the ground, gave thanks for her life, and shared stories of her. 

She was just a dog. 

That was a member of the family.

She    will    be     missed     for     as     long      as      we     live.

Thank you Jaz.   From the depths of our hearts.    It’ll be OK.

For as long as I shall live, I can’t possibly imagine recalling the memories this post is based on and not grinning.  It was a priceless, HILAREOUS, perfect moment in time.  All because of a direction-impaired frog.

(Warning to Aunt Dorothy and Grace…. there are a lot of pictures in this post so beware to you who still have dial-up.)

It was a benign enough day.   Nothing special.   I entered the house through the door leading from the garage and noticed a small frog had made his way into the garage, and oddly enough, had climbed the wall and perched himself high against the trim of the door entering the house.

Hours later, Mr. Froggy still hadn’t moved.

Hours later still, as Magoo, Bud, DustMeister and I walked in from an outing I casually pointed out Mr. Froggy and mentioned we would have to get rid of it.

Magoo blurted out “I’ll do it!”

DustMeister, Bud, and myself blinked a time or two and exchanged knowing glances. 

I say “Ah, no, I don’t think so.  I want the frog OUT of the garage.  YOU will simply freak out, disturb the frog, and it will end up jumping around the garage.  No thanks.”

Then.

For reasons I can’t even reconcile within myself, I offer cash-starved Magoo ONE whole dollar to remove said frog with the following conditions:  1) Capture him in one fell swoop in your hands.  2)Do not allow escape.  3)Take captured frog and release him on outer edge of driveway in the grass.  Oh, and 4)I am allowed to TAKE PICTURES.

She accepts.  Bud, DustMeister, and I… well, we guffaw.  We know she can’t possibly accomplish this task.

So herein lies the chronicles of what happened next.   Magoo nervously surveys her prey:

Oh, how I wish you all could have been here for this.  Bud, DustMeister and I were just sitting back waiting for her to freak out.  For a few minutes she teeter-tottered between determination and total freak out.  Here, she looks pretty cool to proceed:

Soon… not so much.  The freak out begins.  She is so NOT SURE she can do this.  Next up, full on freak out:

I love, love, LOVE her expression above.  I am completely confident she is not posing for the camera.  Her ENTIRE focus is on grabbing Froggy and NOT letting go.  Thus, as displayed above, every muscle in her body is taught with nervous energy.

But, looky here.  Something you may not know about Magoo.  She can turn on the determination mode like I have never seen before.  I have seen her do this time and time again for different tasks, and seriously, it is awe inspiring.  SERIOUSLY.  You want to see it?  Here it is:

Notice her jaw.  And her eyes.  And her clenched fists.  Hello future husband…. if you see this look, I strongly suggest a “Yes, dear, you are so correct…. can I bring you a Mocha Latte?”

And, then something REALLY interesting happens.   Extra fuel is poured upon the determination she has already begun to muster within herself.  Bud and DustMeister are standing close behind her watching her progress, and one one of them must have made a smart remark to her about actually grabbing Froggy…. I believe it was DustMeister and the remark had something to do with Froggy peeing in her hand.   Here is her reaction: 

And then, to my honest surprise, she does this:

She grabs Froggy.  And then the fun REALLY begins.  Shrieking the entire time, she runs Froggy to the far end of the driveway and then (unnecessarily) forcefully propels Froggy about 10 feet in front of her and and runs back to meet us… shrieking the ENTIRE time.

I was laughing hysterically at this point.  I can’t properly convey to you how funny the “releasing” of  Froggy by Magoo was, BUT showing DustMeister’s and Bud’s reactions might help a bit:

Here’s Magoo, immediately after her double dog dare:

 On edge.  Anxious.  Freaked out.  To the max.

And, in the end.  Froggy was successfully removed from the garage.  I gave Magoo TWO whole dollars for her stunning display.

And, Froggy?  He did survive Magoo’s projectiling him into the next county.  Here’s proof:

Long live Froggy.

Just NOT in my garage.  Thanks to Magoo.