In 2000 my wife, Carolyn, was diagnosed with ovarian cancer. Then, in 2001, our much-loved labrador, Sam, had to be put to sleep on the cold floor of the vet’s treatment room. This was a miserable end for such a wonderful friend, as we only had five minutes with him after he left us.
Seeing how terribly upset we were, the vet informed us of a family that were looking to rehome their year-old golden retriever, Jake. We immediately went to see them. As soon as we sat down, Jake came and sat in front of me, seeming to know what was about to happen. We’ve bonded, I thought. Thinking he loved his new family, we took him home with us. While it’s true that Jake indeed loved us dearly, it was also true that Jake loved everyone, and in turn everyone loved him.
He also loved getting out and about. We very quickly discovered that, being such a big dog, he had an abundance of energy. In his early years with us, in open spaces, he could run like the wind. Living in Torquay, he adored the coastal path and the beaches, particularly when there was the chance of a swim. And he had a lot of those. Our son, William, loved wild camping out on Dartmoor, as did Jake, particularly if there was some mud – or much worse – to roll in. And everywhere Jake went, everyone was delighted when he approached them for even more fuss, with a wide grin on his face and his bushy tail wagging 19 to the dozen.
During Carolyn’s long illness, Jake was a constant companion and friend, offering love during the worst times of our lives. In 2005, when Carolyn died and William was then away at university, Jake was still there with me, reminding me that life had to go on. There would have been a much bigger void in my life without him. A house that could have felt terribly empty and cold still felt something like a home when I came back to it, particularly when I had to leave Jake by himself. But generally, Jake came with me because I could always fit in a walk somewhere.
In 2014, after his rear legs collapsed, we had to say goodbye. Jake was put to sleep by the vet in our garden, where he now lies. And so, still, Jake remains with us. Whenever I look up in the garden, I can feel him there with me, always, out in the fresh air. And still I find and throw the toys we didn’t bury, knowing that bringing them back to me was the joy of his life – and mine. But now I have to fetch them myself … So thank you, Jake, for being such a loyal pal. Thank you for all your love and thank you so much for making life go on. You are so badly missed.