Jack

My next door neighbor's dog, Jack, had to be put down the other day.

I never thought I could be this emotional over an animal.

My family has never really been into pets.  My dad is allergic to essentially everything, and none of us kids ever seemed particularly interested in having a pet, anyway.  I had a fish for a while.  His name was Filmore, I got him for a school project, and he lasted a surprisingly long time considering I was inconsistant at feeding him and rarely changed his water.  Obviously, I cared very deeply about him.

But Jack was different.  The Archibalds adopted him from the pound shortly after they moved next door to me.  He was precious.  He was a beautiful yellow lab, with only three legs.  For a while, he had to wear a cone around his head so he wouldn't lick an old wound.  He was big and gentle, and loved being petted. Strangely enough, he loved me.  I felt like he was my dog, only I never had to feed him or scoop his poop or take him for walks, so it was the best of all worlds.

Sometimes I would just give him big hugs and tell him all my fears.  My nephew, Holden, adored Jack.  I would take him over to say hi and pet him almost every day. I don't know how I am going to tell him, if I do at all.

I found out he was put down via facebook.  I started crying, which scared me a little, because I had never experienced loving a dog that much.  But I'll never forget jack, and the happiness he brought to me.