A Sad Story
Living in northern Vermont in a very rural area 3 miles from a small town tends to start one thinking about having a dog. A nice sort of watch dog.
Home sweet home.
Our next dog came from a shelter not far from our town. He was a lab-mix, black in color and about 2 years old. We called him Jake. He proved, in time, to be very protective and territorial. In short he became a problem.
He took up residence in the family room and was kept there. Sammy, now past his 12th year, was too old to cope with Jake. He had the run of the rest of the house.
Jake had to be caged when anyone came to the house. When some of our family came to visit for several days Jake went to a kennel. Jake got so accustomed to the kennel that he could be let loose in the area and he would go right to the large cage where he stayed so often. He was no trouble to anyone at the kennel.
Jake at home.
I don't think Jake was afraid of anything. Gunshots or strange loud noises didn't bother him. He was the only dog I ever owned that would run around in the rain chasing the sound of thunder and barking at it.
One day I noticed what looked like lumps in Jake's groin. A visit to the Vet was inconclusive. He couldn't tell what it was. Two days later I had to leave for Michigan where my daughter had just given birth to a little girl. When I returned 2 weeks later I saw that Jake had a group of small lumps in his neck. Another visit to the Vet and the verdict was cancer. He could live maybe another 6 months. Jake was now 7 years old. We had him for 5 years. Although he was in no pain his condition would only get worse. There was no choice. Jake was put down quickly.
By now Sammy, at 17 years , was failing fast. In less that 2 months Sam followed Jake. The house seemed so very quiet. It was a very sad time.
For the first time in many years we were without a dog.
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