To some people Jack was just a dog. But to me he was the child I could never have, my best friend, my confidant, and the best little dog you could ask for. I had wanted a dog when I got married, but we spent so many years living in 3 room apartments we had no room. So when we bought our first house I told my ex-husband that I wanted a dog...NOW!

I had always wanted a dalmatian...(long before they became popular). So when I saw the ad in the newspaper..."Dalmatian puppies for sale $175.00"...I said, "let's go!" We got in the car and drove for over an hour before we reached the place. All the while I was driving I kept thinking how great having a puppy was going to be. When we finally reached the place the "puppy" they were selling (Jack), was 4 months old, and already huge. I was a little disappointed at first. I was expecting a younger puppy. But when they let him out of the cage I knew in that instant he was my "baby".

Jack was a piece of work. He loved to have his picture taken. The minute he saw the camera he'd begin to pose. He was so loving too. He'd look up at you with those brown eyes, so full of warmth and love. I had put a red bandanna on him one day. He was so funny. He'd be parading around the room like he was saying, "I'm special and don't forget it." After a few days it was dirty and smelly, so I took it off him to wash it. He acted like I'd taken his clothes off him, and he wasn't happy 'till he had his bandanna on again.

I had grown up with dogs. Our dogs not only lived indoors, but most of them had their own piece of furniture to sleep on! A neighbor once told that when she "came back" she wanted to be our family pet. (lol) My ex-husband grew up differently. Their pets never stayed indoors. So naturally we had trouble when it came to Jack. Dogs are funny animals, they sense things no one else does. They know when someone likes them and when they don't. Jack knew from the beginning that he and my ex were going to butt heads. My ex was jealous of my love for Jack and it showed.

We'd only had Jack a few months when we realized he had kidney stones. Dalmatians produce large quantities of stones. He was put on a special diet. The closest place to get this food was 90 minutes away. When he was 2 years old he needed emergency surgery. Some of the stones had blocked his urethra and he was unable to urinate. The hospital our vet suggested was 2 hours away, so we bundled him in the car and off I flew. The surgery was a success, and after a week in the hospital we were able to bring him home. My Mother had ridden with me that day to pick Jack up.

I was inside paying the bill ($1,500), while my Mother had taken Jack out the car. It wasn't a minute later she came running back into the hospital all upset. "Jack's bleeding all over the back seat", she said. They had told me to expect a little "spotting" so I'd covered the seat with a vinyl shower curtain before we'd left home. I told her it was normal for him to bleed some and not to worry. But when I got out to the car I couldn't believe my eyes. It looked like some strange cult had been sacrificing bodies in the back of the car! Blood was everywhere and poor Jack looked like he'd done something wrong.

Even with the surgery, Jack still had trouble with stones. He was always sick, and when a blockage would erupt I'd spend hours on my hands and knees cleaning up the blood. I soon found out that peroxide does wonders on blood!! (lol)

Jack was my constant companion, there was no place I was alone...even the bathroom. Jack also knew what stages of pain I was in with my Fibromyalgia. He knew my good days, my so-so days, my terrible days, and would act accordingly. Most of the time Jack was the only one in that house who gave a shit about me and how I felt. Like myself, Jack bore a lot of abuse from my ex-husband. His treatment of Jack played a big role in my decision to get a divorce. I felt that Jack and I needed a quieter, safer environment to live in. Jack would be laying in bed with me, looking at me with all the love in the world, and I would pet him saying, "someday we'll get away from here honey".

I left my husband in the fall of 1998. Jack and I lived in an apartment for a few months. Then in the summer of 1999 Jack and I went to south Florida and moved in with my Mother. We were both so happy, and he'd become a different dog. He was no longer timid and shy. We both flourished.

Jack would only live another year. Ten years of kidney stones had ruined his kidneys, and by December of 2000 Jack was a very sick dog. I had him to vets all over the city, but no one could do anything for him. On the morning of Christmas Eve he couldn't even stand to urinate. I took him to an emergency hospital. The vet told me Jack wouldn't last the day, and that I should think of having him put to sleep. I was guilt ridden, but I felt that was the only way to lessen Jack's suffering.

There isn't a day I don't think of Jack. Whenever I see a Dalmatian along the street my heart jumps into my throat. But I know he's no longer suffering, and I still have my memories to sustain me.