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It was around the time of my grade nine year in junior high that Dad loaded the family into the truck and shuttled us out to Wainwright, Alberta. Under the guise of a family day trip to our favoured hunting grounds, we soon rolled up to a quiet ranch nestled amongst tall poplars and thick mature willow trees. I still remember getting that wet nose pushed up against my cheek as I exited the vehicle to survey my surroundings and get a feel as to what old Dad was up to.
The strength of the full-grown chocolate Labrador retriever was immediately evident, as it took everything I had to wrestle back the countless attempts at ‘kisses’ that big oaf was throwing my way. As silly as it may sound, I really did feel an instant connection with that ninety-pound ‘pup’.
The first time I wrapped my arms around our first bird dog, as he nuzzled back with firm but gentle approach, I felt how that hound knew he really did just find his forever family.
As far back as I can remember, I recall pestering my poor paps about bringing us home a bird dog. The old boy had made a couple valiant attempts at satisfying my love for the four-legged kind years prior with a border collie who’s only use was jumping over and over and over again at cagey magpies taunting him from our rooftop. As well as a heavy-tempered German Shepherd that inevitably was shipped off due to a lack of trust on my mother and father’s end. ‘Jack’ was different though.
In between the rigours of school and hockey I was so deeply involved in, Jack was my best friend. Countless summer days were spent in the backyard and at the local parks practicing our retrieves and playing a never-ending game of ‘tag’. He was always there for me. Like any family dog, Jack was often on the receiving end of personal frustrations due to work, school, sports and teenage relationships. No matter how many times any of us in our household were short tempered with him he was always there to welcome us when we walked through the door. Whether I was looking for someone, or something, to warm a spot on my chilly mattress before I crawled into bed, or simply needed someone, or something, to be by my side as I fought back the emotional struggles that many teenagers encounter as they ‘figure things out’, Jack was my pal. The outright devotion that dog portrayed towards ‘his kids’ was truly a sight to behold, never mind the ‘right-hand man’ type attitude that Jack exhibited while next to the pack leader that was my father. That pup was a friend, brother, and eldest son to everyone that he was responsible for caring for. A truly refined individual, Jack constantly held his head high, as he was a proud being. Never one to pick a fight, yet if a battle came knocking on his door, he damn right would finish it.
In all the chaos he would have encountered raising his kids and protecting his parents, he would often tend to our wounds before even considering his own, both physical and emotional. Jack was a strong individual in both body and mind, and through it all his happy-go-lucky attitude never wavered.
A dominant force when it came to the retrieve, Jack had the endurance and drive to run with the best of them. I still daydream about the times spent running the hedgerows and culverts seeking out sharptails with Jack by my side. Always willing and always able, Jack upheld the expectations that are often set when speaking of one of North America’s finest retriever breeds.
At the age of about five (young by any dog’s standards), Jack developed a severe skin allergy who’s source was unknown. My poor parents tried everything from different foods, to nursing the condition along with veterinarian prescribed antihistamines. With no real solution in sight, Jack was put on a steady dose of steroid drugs to ease the constant itching and discomfort he was destined to endure. Even though his sickness was gradually taking a toll on his once healthy body, Jack remained true to whom he was—a loving and caring guardian of the family. He never once let on to the pain I’m now positive he was battling on a day-to-day basis. He could still be found by my side, anxious to be set free and run down that last bumper I had thrown for him those quiet mornings at the lake. Blowing up the calm waters of Island Lake with a truly remarkable diving ability from any sort of platform or dock you would be so willing to challenge him with tackling.
A fine fishing companion in his own right, Jack would ritualistically crawl out of his warm bed every morning only to set up shop on the narrow and cold bench seat at the front of our small aluminum boat to accompany me out on the lake for hours on end. As many times as I was caught out on that lake in storms in that small underpowered boat, my confidence was never lacking. I knew Jack had my back, and would surely sacrifice his own life if it meant saving mine. To this day, I honestly believe that was his mentality and it made him the dog he was.
I remember coming home from school one day to my mom tending to our pup. He was lying on the floor of the living room with Mom lightly running her hands over his head. Even then, with my limited knowledge of what the future held for my big buddy, the look on my mom’s face told the whole story. Although I expected the best, I still knew in the back of my mind that despite the endless courage my best friend was putting forth, he was deteriorating against his will. Mom, with her famous heart of gold, did her best to brush it off as ‘A flu bug’ and somehow convinced us kids not to worry.
It was a quiet night that evening with Jack fighting off the flu and all. Still, Jack sat by my side as I spent the night killing the hours playing the latest sports video game in my bedroom, while having him look up at me every so often as if to say, “Hey buddy… ear scratch… lets go here.”
It was a warm Friday night that was being spent with some of my friends out on the town when I received the call. Something clicked when I saw my old flip phone begin ringing at around midnight, as my parents were always reasonable when it came to allowing me to stay out late without pestering me with the ‘just checking in’ phone call. To this day, those words that my mother spoke still resonate freshly in my mind. “Son, you need to come down to the clinic, Jack is very ill.”
Again, my mother is one of the kindest and warm-hearted people to grace this earth, and will always deflect hurt and pain away from her family and onto herself if it means making things easier on us. This fact alone was the giveaway that something really was wrong with my best bud. The fact that she did make that phone call was all I needed to race down to the clinic so I could be with my buddy.
I walked through the clinic doors at around 1:00 a.m. to see my mom teary eyed all while still brandishing a forced smile. She hugged me. The surge of emotions that I felt when she said those words to me will forever be buried within. “Jeffrey, it’s your time. You need to go and be with your old bird dog. Jack needs you now.”
The room was quiet and almost uneasy, yet Jack laid on the table seemingly in peace, eyes closed and relaxed. The click of the closing door caused him to break open his eyes and look at me. Too tired and too weak to lift his head, he ‘smiled’ at me by calling upon any strength he had to wiggle a small wag with his tail. His little brother was there, by his side.
At the risk of making this sound overly dramatic, I spoke to him. I told him that it was okay. He had done his job and I was proud of my old bird dog. I held his paw in the palm of my hand, rested my other upon his head and told him I loved him. I told him he would not be forgotten. I told him it was okay if he felt he needed to go. As if to respond with ‘hey little brother, I hear ya, and I love ya right back’, he laid his head to rest on my forearm and quietly fell asleep. Never whimpering, never once letting on to the pain he was keeping to himself. Jack always protected me.
The decision was made in conjunction with Mom and Dad that it was best to aid in the ending of Jack’s suffering and finally let him be in peace. Dad would be the one to stand by Jack’s side as he passed, and finally receive the rest he had always deserved.
As I fought back the tears while I made my way home, my phone rang for the second time that night. I had been a hardened jock up until that point. Dad had instilled in me the strength to fight back emotions until there was a time that enabled one to let them out. Often that meant away from the eyes of family. It was my father on the other end. There’s a certain vulnerability a young man feels the first time he hears his father cry. It was then that I realized the true impact that Jack had on not only me, but also everyone that was involved in his life as well. With all the chaos that a family is forced to deal with on a daily basis, with sports, school and careers, Jack had unknowingly brought us together. With his passing, Jack had given us all a common ground to meet at, and share the love amongst ourselves much as he had in his short seven years of life. He had brought my father and me together and forced us to begin the path towards being more open with each other. He had given my sister and me a chance to share in specific memories that only Jack and us are able to hold on to, and gave my mother someone to lean on when it became tough bearing all the negativity that she tried so hard to shelter us from. The strange thing is Jack never expected anything in return.
Now at the age of 30 with a growing family and loving wife to be, I have a new best friend, Jack’s ‘Gunner’ Stevenson. A chocolate-coloured Chesapeake Bay retriever that every day, reminds me more and more of that very oaf that welcomed me into his life with open paws. Gunner seems to be somehow guided by that old bird dog that I let go so many years ago. He loves and cares for ‘his’ kids much the same as Jack did with his own. I’m positive Jack was helping me out the day I made that long drive to Saskatoon, Saskatchewan to select my pup.
As I move forward in life and strive to be the father and husband I hope to be, I will forever be in debt to my best buddy from the past. He showed me how to care, and he showed me how to unconditionally love. He showed me that it’s okay to open up, even in the toughest of times. Most importantly, he showed me how to be strong and to never waver from who you truly are.
*Dedicated to Sable’s Tennessee Jack* ■
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