Yesterday was Valentine’s Day. For the widowed, it can be a day as emotionally charged as anniversaries, holiday and birthdates. No matter where you are in your ongoing recovery process, these events can amp up feelings because they serve up so many memories.
A year ago, my partner David, a major dog-lover, and I, welcomed a sweet black and white puppy in to our pack. It was a spontaneous act on my part. I’d recently met the owner of the local shelter and was captivated by a pack of nine gorgeous and playful pups out in the courtyard.
This is not the glamorous and well-funded shelter of some regions. We are talking concrete floors with wire fenced enclosures. For fun, the puppies, that shared the same space with 8 from another litter, were allowed out of their pen to run around and enjoy a child’s play set with a little plastic bridge where they took turns “posing” and showing off for potential adopters!
As I shared previously, this abandoned black and white litter was brought to the shelter in bad shape and nursed back to healthy by the shelter’s staff. Despite this “ruff” beginning, they were remarkably healthy, happy and alert, all charming in their own way.
Although I entered a new “chapter” or “book” as its called in the Widowhood, we are never immune from the memories and circumstances that changed our lives forever. We never forget those who have gone on. I think I was compelled to do something “big” that day here in my new community in rural Florida.
David and I returned to that shelter several times to engage with the litter. There were a few that tugged at our hearts, but I noticed one, with a white body with one huge circle on his lower back. A small black spot on his scruff became heart-like in shape when he looked up. His eyes were that of an old soul, and he rested his chin on whatever was available quietly observing everything around him. When I went to pick him up he tried to run away!
Once in my arms, a bond occurred. I didn’t stop to overthink. I needed him, and he needed us.
We took him home and after trying on many names, we christened him “Jackson” in honor of my dad who’d passed in 2023.
Although I’d adopted my blind malti-poo in 2022, Quint and Jackson are as different as night and day, in breed-mix and temperament. David’s older Australian shepherd, Penny wasn’t quite on board at first, and Jackson, used to wrestingly 16 other puppies gave Quint a run for his money. In time, however, the pack has bonded. Jackson increasingly looks out for Quint and he and Penny run and play with wild abandon, which has been so beneficial to the older shepherd.
My way back from the dark days of my early stage of widowhood was guided by a blind puppy; one that gave me a purpose and got me unstuck from crippling grief. Soon, a shepherd came with a man that herded me further forward and now Jackson is maturing in to an incredible dog, one of the most intelligent, athletic and sensitive animals I’ve ever met, my “Big Beautiful Boy”.
Happy Homing Day, Jackie (only his momma can call him that). As February is Spay and Neuter Awareness Month, take a moment to see how you might help your community with initiatives that will improve animal welfare.
More on that next week.
