"What we have once enjoyed deeply we can never lose. All that we love deeply becomes a part of us"
- Helen Keller
I'm not really sure how to write this, if I'm being honest. Writing a caption for an Instagram post was hard enough, but actually writing a whole post about the thing that made coming home from work and waking up in the morning worth it? I have tears in my eyes and I'm one sentence in.
I remember meeting Jenna. She was a mouthy little thing going by the name Reba. I think I'd be mouthy too if that was my name.
I met her and instantly fell in love. Her long legs, sassy personality, and sweet disposition were everything I'd been looking for in a dog. After I heard that she had been turned down by three vets until they found one who would treat her severe heart worm and save her, I knew she was special. I remember getting the call that they chose me to be her mom. It was like finding out I was pregnant but without having to suffer through 9 months of pregnancy to get her. She'd be mine in a few short weeks. I went crazy finding her the perfect bowl, best treats and toys, and asking my roommate too many times "You sure you're okay with me getting a dog?"
March 9, Jenna became mine. Not in an official capacity - she had to finish her heart worm treatment, but she was mine. Heart murmur, miracle pup in all. I remember the first few weeks not being sure what I got myself into. She was skittish. She hated her kennel. She didn't trust me. Slowly, she started to realize that I wasn't going to leave her like everyone had done up till now, and I wasn't going to hurt her, like the people she knew in her past. As she began to feel more comfortable, she really blossomed into her personality. I learned that she loved attention. She was the bully at the dog park, simply because she wanted to play SO BAD. She would claw you in the face if you weren't loving on her, or if she needed to tell you something. She hated rain, and thunderstorms terrified her in the beginning. When people asked me what kind of dog she was, "hound/shepherd mix but who really knows" was always my answer.
My favorite thing that ever happened to us when when a little boy saw her at a softball game in the spring and said "Oo but she got a small head tho." In exactly the voice you picture reading that. She did have a small head. But, it was a small head with velvet soft ears, a "headband" of black running on top of her head, and the sweetest brown eyes I could ever hope to look into. When we moved in with Sam and Celia, Jenna had a rough time. She didn't know how to not be the center of my world. "Who is this big brute getting all my attention?" Is what I'm sure she was thinking. She peed on Celia's bed. Twice. She peed on my bed. She peed on the carpet. On the couch. She tore up my antlers for my halloween costume. She tore up a paper bag. She dug at the couch. She dug a hole in the backyard. My little Houdini escaped multiple times from the backyard. We went through a scare about her heart a few months ago and got the all-clear for her to hopefully live a long and happy life. We went on runs and walks, dog park visits, playing in the backyard, me forcing her to take pictures even though she was camera shy and HATED taking selfies with me.
Jenna came into my life when I needed her the most. I was lonely, I didn't have anything in my life that was constant besides my job, and I just felt a little lost. I think we needed each other in a way. Her in all her trepidation about people, and me in my desire to have a constant faithful companion. We were the perfect match.
Jenna taught me a lot. A lot about patience. A lot about responsibility and putting her needs above mine (although I feel as if I failed her more times than not). Most of all, about how to love. What it means to love someone who pees in your bed. When all you want to do is yell and then she looks at me as if I'm the best thing in the world and I can't be mad anymore. When her enthusiasm for simply going on a walk and sniffing the ground eclipses your enthusiasm for life most days, you learn a little bit about the joy in life.
Mischievous until the end, it was ultimately Jenna's curiosity and puppy-like love for anything gnaw-able that did her in. While I can self blame, it's like my roommate said, if it didn't happen then, it could've happened any day. What they don't tell you in dog parenting 101 is that ibuprofen is toxic for animals. Jenna ingested about 100x the lethal dose for a dog, especially one of her size, and while the vet said he could do everything in his power to save her, the chance that she could die in the middle of the night, coupled with the neurological damage she was already exhibiting and the sheer cost of what a rescue effort would entail for a less than comfortable life on the other side, lead me to the decision to put her out of her misery. I chose to do what was best for her. So she would no longer be in pain, and would die knowing the love of her mom.
Selfishly, I wanted to keep her. I wanted her to stay with me. To sleep by my side every night until she was old and couldn't jump up on the bed any more. To entertain me with her antics and wake me up with her sweet face every morning. But, that wouldn't have been fair to her. She's in a better place, I firmly believe that. She's running around with Ginger and Toby, swatting people's faces in Heaven. Eventually I'll get another dog who needs love. I'll move on and the pain that comes in waves and causes me to cry every few minutes will pass. But she will always hold a special place in my heart. My first fur baby. Named after my favorite animated movie's love interest, Balto. (He fell in love with Jenna and saved Alaska to impress her. NBD.)
I'm most thankful that yesterday the dogs pulled an escape act and I had to leave work to pick them up. I think the Lord was providing extra time for me with her. After I brought her home, cleaned up the mud and dried her off, I had her get on the couch so I could give her a talk. (We had a few of those. She tended to get into trouble.) I put my head right next to her face, and she nuzzled her head on my shoulder while I was scratching her belly and telling her that if she didn't watch out and stop escaping, she wouldn't get to live with me anymore, she could get hurt and die. She was perfectly content to nuzzle me for about 10 minutes and that was probably the sweetest moment I've ever had with her, along with the time she crawled up right next to my belly one night and put her head on my belly and fell asleep. I look back and thank the Lord for that moment that I can hold on to. And that she knew I loved her.
Huge thank you to everyone who has told me they're praying for me and thinking of me. It means the world to know I have so many people around me who love me and care for me. Thank you to my sister, who maybe loved Jenna more than I did. For always asking for pictures so now I have approx. 900 pictures from the short time I had her. Thank you to Celia and Hannah and Jeanne and Dempsey Butler, who dropped their Thursday night plans to hold me, cry with me, and love me at the vet office. Who patted and kissed her head to let her know she was loved and would be missed. You all are my rocks and I owe you so much for being there for me. Thanks to Dalaney, the best cubemate I could ask for. Who cried with me, brought me coffee, and gives me hugs every few minutes so I know I'm not alone today. Thanks for my family who know what it's like to lose a pup and who remind me that it's okay to cry, and it's okay to miss her. Jenna loved you as much as I do, and I know she would want me to extend her biggest "woof" loves to you. Goodbye, my sweet Jenna girl.
Jackie
