No more pitter patter

The sound of Jackson's nails trotting along our wood floor always annoyed my husband. It never bothered me. I even liked it. Even though it woke me up several times in the past 6 years in the middle of the night. Usually because he was sick. He would find a place to hide as if we wouldn't find out. I don't know why dogs do that; hide when they're sick. It was like he didn't want us to see him that way. Dogs want us to see them at their best. Happy, wagging tail, tongue hanging out, and smiling. That's the way I will remember Jackson. Even though he had much more sick days than most dogs (I assume), he had some great dog days too.

I remember a day when it snowed a crazy amount for Texas. Casey and I took him outside and he ran like he'd never run before. He ran until his little legs were coated in white globs of snow. Or the day I took him to a dog festival in Dallas. He sampled treats and got loved on by strangers all afternoon. Or a simple day with me in the car on a road trip when I gave him fries and ice water. He had a way of making me feel better if I was upset. I would look him in the face and he would lick me right on the nose. He grunted and moaned when you scratched him in the right places. He never took up too much room on the bed. He usually liked his own bed instead. Sometimes, I'd make him cuddle with me before letting him get into his own bed. As soon as he heard you turn the TV off at night he jumped up and grabbed his Bobo. He loved pretzels and carrots, and always trusted me.

This morning, Christmas Eve, Jackson was sick. His diabetes had taken over his body. He was weak, sick, shaking, scared, and ashamed. He tried to hide his weakness. I held him tight and let him know he didn't have to be afraid or scared. We spent the morning with him. Owen brought him every toy he could find. He showed him all of his favorite books and pointed out his favorite parts. We gave him as many hugs as he would let us, but he was in pain. No dog should be in pain. It's the one thing I never wanted for him. After getting his diagnosis last week and hearing about how it could (and likely would) take a fast turn for the worse. I knew I couldn't watch him suffer. Without daily injections of insulin his body would eventually (and did) attack itself. He developed ketosis with is fatal and painful. I held him in my arms as the doctor took his pain away and let him escape the suffering. It was fast and peaceful...and it was horrible. I kept telling him that soon it would all be over and he wouldn't have to worry about hiding his sickness and pain anymore. I could feel his tension and worry leave his body as he drifted off to sleep. I'm so glad he is pain free in doggy heaven; forever healthy. I miss him though. But he will always here. We got to bring him home and bury him in his backyard. We put him right where all the squirrels go.

I've cried just enough or too much. Owen seemed worried about me at some point and hugged me which made me cry more. In many ways it's horrible that it happened on Christmas Eve, but in some ways it's just right.

Rest in peace Jackson. You were so loved and loved us too. Our home is not the same without you in it.

Jackson

10-28-08

12-24-14