Last night Jazz barked and barked while I tried to sleep. This was not unexpected, as old girl Miss Boo (her nickname) had slept most of the day away. She was days away from her sixteenth birthday this morning. It's hard for her to tell when it's daytime as her sleep schedule gets changed around like that, not being able to hear or see, so as I groggily said "For the love of Dog, Jazz, be quiet", I had no idea these were our last few minutes together at 7:00 AM. "Just ten more minutes, Jazz" I thought as I rolled over and cuddled her close. Jazz quieted down, and I woke at about 8AM.
The boys needed to go out, so I rushed them out, and went back upstairs per usual to get Jazz. Jazz had already gone to the fetch Frisbees with her brother Neptune. She had died as I slept with her in my arms. She ended up passing over the way I always wanted for her and all my pets, except that I wished I hadn't been telling her to be quiet all night. On the other hand, it was as painless death as it could have been for the both of us. Jazz had been my constant companion for the last thirteen years.
I got her from a breeder when she was three, and I was looking at her puppies. She was never registered, and I sure wish I knew what her lines were now. She was the epitomy of good manners, health, athletic, and fun. She also lived five years beyond the average age that a Doberman will live. A couple of years ago, she was still racing around our yard, and giving younger dogs hell. These last few years have been difficult on Jazz, as she needed to be carried downstairs to go to the bathroom and occasionally held up to do it. Jazz was not one to accept help, and she frequently fought us every step of the way. In fact, she had become so accommodating lately, that I thought the end could not be that far away.
Run free my stubborn, funny girl. There is a place in my heart that will remain empty and sad from now on.
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