07/ 30/ 2012
For 10 ½ years, I’ve been a very lucky lady. I never imagined how much impact a dog could make until my family and I got our beagle, Jefferson. A couple weeks ago, we found out that my brother — as I call him — has advanced prostrate cancer, that has spread to his lungs. We have medicine that will make him more comfortable, but eventually, we’ll have to put him down.
I was shocked to say the least. For the next few days, I was a basket case (which was so weird… I almost never cry). I realize that he’s a dog and this is very different than hearing that a person has cancer. However, for my family and I, it feels like we’re losing a very loved and cherished family member. Jefferson wasn’t a dog to me, but a brother, a friend and a teacher.
I remember the day we bought him. My parents, youngest brother Jacob, and I drove to a reputable dog store called “The Puppy Shop” (thinking back, that sounds a bit ominous). Jacob was young then, about 9, and I was 16. We’d always wanted a dog and had some how convinced our parents to get one. We were in a state of ecstasy.
We walked inside and saw a wall lined with play-bins, each housing varying amounts of puppies. My parents and Jacob did an initial once-over, but I could not stop looking at this tinny tri-colored beagle. All the other puppies in his bin were crawling over him, barking and yipping… not this little guy. Instead he was curled up, eyes-closed, trying to nap—that’s my kind of dog. He was an old soul. “That’s him,” I thought.
There was some debate. We went to Shells (a chain restaurant in Florida that my family loved) and talked it over. The conversation was so diplomatic. Because it was Memorial Day Weekend, he was “half-off,” as the saleswoman kept saying, so he was in our price range. I’d already explained his surprisingly docile behavior and we’d each took turns holding him. We each felt good energy in those snuggles. Who would feed him? Bath him? Walk him? What would we name him? “Jefferson,” I said “Jefferson Milne.” It was like fireworks erupted and we drove back to the store and purchased our puppy.
The car ride home was absolute chaos. That sweet, quiet, immovable puppy pulled a Jekyll and Hyde. We couldn’t keep him still. He was so interested in the things around him and sniffed and squirmed. Later, my mom mentioned, that in the car, she couldn’t stop thinking, “Oh Lord… what have I done?!”
That summer was rough. Jefferson – only 4 months old – was such a curious and intelligent guy. It was like the beginnings of a relationship where you’re testing each other, learning what sets the other off. Toilet paper, this was his chew-toy of choice. My mom kept saying, “We sure are going through lots of toilet paper.” A few weeks later, we found a mountain of Charmin Ultra Soft hidden behind both our couches… we just laughed.
His favorite thing to do, like most dogs, was eat. I was very proud because he knew how to beat the system. Jefferson figured out, very quickly, that if he went potty successfully, he’d get a treat. He’d alert us that he needed to go out and we’d take him to his gated area outback. We’d open the door and watch as he pranced around, head held high, like he was marching to his own drum. Jefferson would take one full lap around, come back in and sit expectantly at your feet, waiting for his “crunchie.” He was so very clever.
I watched him grow-up. He learned everyday task like how to sit, alert us when he needed to go to the bathroom, how to lie down. The first time he made it a whole day without going in his crate, I felt like a proud parent. He grew from a reckless child into a wise old man who knew when and how to pick his battles. Getting to watch that growth was wonderful because I got to know him. Jefferson has a very strong personality. He’s stubborn and always knows what he wants and he’ll bark until he gets his way—that’s just Jefferson. He’d make the most curious faces, like he was trying to figure out what you were thinking or like he didn’t understand why he couldn’t get what he wanted. My favorite of these looks was a head tilt. He’d cock his head to the right side and the spot right above his nose would crinkle… precious.
Jefferson was also extremely selfless and brought so much joy to my life. Somehow he knew how to be there for me. He sat with me when I was sad, he made me smile when I was frustrated and his quirks always made me laugh. As an adult, when I’d come home to visit, we’d have the sweetest reunions. He’d jump up and down and I’d eventually sit next to him, rubbing his belly. He made me feel special, like I really mattered.
Knowing that I’ll lose him soon is painful. But then, I think back, and realize how much he enriched my life. From him, I learned that there is always time for friends; having that extra snack is ok every once and a while; going on long walks and sitting in the grass is necessary; it’s ok to have imperfections… they’re a big part of who we are; never judge or stray away from the person you are. He also gave me hope, showing me that I am capable of loving in a way I never thought I could again.
Right after we received Jefferson’s prognosis, I flew home to visit my family. It was perfect timing; the trip gave me a chance to say good-bye. I got to spend a lot of time with him, cuddling on the couch while watching reality TV, sitting outside in the Florida sunshine and going for short walks. When it was time to head back to NYC, I hugged him hard and said, “It’s been an honor to know you. Thank you for enriching my life.”
They say that true happiness comes in many forms, and for me, it came in a beagle.
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