When we lived in Louisiana, we had a dog named Jack. He was a mix of canine superhero and amazingness- in our eyes at least. When I was just a toddler, I was outside playing with my doll. Three wild dogs approached growling, one taking my doll. I screamed and, as the story goes, seconds later Jack rounds the corner. He was growling, hair standing on end. My mother says she came running outside to see Jack standing over me, barking and snarling at the dogs as they growled back at him. After a few moments the first dog dropped my doll and the three left.
Jack was gentle but protective. He chased cars that drove past our rural home, and sometimes he would run after our truck when we left for town. We would sing “Hit the Road Jack” to him as we drove away.
When we moved from Louisiana to Kansas, we didn’t take Jack with us. He was used to roaming the woods and rural areas, and we were moving to a town where he would need to wear a collar and be kept contained in a yard. We left him with friends. My brothers and I were sad to leave him. I didn’t understand why we couldn’t keep him with us. We asked for another dog, but my parent’s decided against it.
Getting a new pet or replacing one right away may not be the best move for children. Loss is a normal part of growing up. There are the experiences that are easily associated with loss such as moving or the death of a loved one, and there are losses we may not realize as readily. When a toddler masters walking, there is the loss of being carried. When a sibling is born, there is the loss of having a parent’s full attention and energy. When you sit on your favorite sunglasses, there is the loss of that perfect fit and predictable tinted view. Loss for children is difficult. A parent or caregiver who can provide consistent support is important to the child developing coping skills, understanding and building resilience.
Seven years ago a stray puppy came into our lives. He was about six weeks old, found wandering around West Phoenix. A few months earlier, my sister-in-law found a year old min-pin mix in a Tucson wash. With no one claiming him, we took him in and named him Rocky. He was a handful. So, when the puppy was mentioned to us, I was adamant about NOT getting a second dog. However, once I saw him, I couldn’t leave him (apparently he had some superpowers, or a tractor beam that locked in on me). My husband and I thought about names, but only one would do. Jack. He looked nothing like my childhood dog, but there was something that reminded me of him.
Have you had a pet that played a special role in your life?
Our cat, Bandit, was very loyal and protective. He used to fight off the neighbor’s Dachshund when it came into the yard at our home in Chandler. He even went in the neighbor’s dog door one day to finish the fight. When we moved to Gilbert, he went nose to nose with three stray dogs roaming the neighborhood. To stay in shape, he sparred with our boys, who would cover their arms in socks to play box with him often. Never seen a dog in a cat suit? Gotta see Bandit! We loved him and he loved us more.
Oh my gosh, I’m laughing at your story. I would have loved to meet Bandit. Perfect name for a rebel cat!
I remember when I was learning to ride my bike I accidentally plowed into Jack while he was lying down. It had to have hurt but he never snipped or growled, just stood up quickly seemingly to see if I was OK. Should’ve been me checking on him but true to form he was a protector for us… Making sure the little 5 year old terror who had just slammed into him was OK first! I just wish I had been a little older to have spent a bit more time with him like you guys. Oh yeah, during that same move I also had to part ways with myrtle/burtle the turtle (don’t remember which…lol)… But he was certainly no JACK:)
Jack is quiet the legend in our home. I’m afraid that the day will arrive when we finally get a family dog and all Marley will hear are the superhero stories of Jack from her Dad.
Growing up we had our own wonder dog; a back lab named Putney. When I was a toddler I managed to wander off in very tall grass. My Parents couldn’t see me and were in a panic trying to find me. Before the search party was called, my Parents saw Putney gently guiding me back to my parents. He had my arm in his mouth tenderly leading me home.
I still remember my Parents allowing us our last goodbye with Putney and experiencing that loss. I’m thankful they were honest about what was happening and allowing us to have our final moments with our best friend.
I’ve heard your family mention Putney, but I don’t recall hearing that story. Dogs have that thing, that special connection with us, don’t they? I love knowing that your parents encouraged goodbyes for you. It’s those meaningful experiences that guide us in our lives. 🙂