The Changing of the Guard

[Beowolff]

Last night, I went out to feed our very old (16 year old) outside guard dog, ole Jack… and found him lying silent in a corner of his pen. I wasn’t too concerned, he’s an old feller and like most oldsters his age, he sleeps a lot and he sleeps very sound. Also, as he’s been in bad health the last couple of years, he’s about half blind, hard of hearing, and I don’t think his old nose is scenting like it used to either…too many times here lately I’ve had to shake him hard to get him to wake up from one of his snoozes. Only this time when I reached down to wake him…I knew instantly that his sleep was something else entirely.

Ole Jack had lain there patiently waiting for me to come feed him…dozed off…and silently and (I can only hope) gently, passed away.

Ole Jack…our beloved protector and guardian was gone.

Such is life some will say…and he was just a dog. Ah…and true enough, the cycle of life sadly also includes a finality…death. But as to Jack just being a dog…well, that’s not exactly right. For fourteen years or so (I got him when he was about two,) Jack has stood guard over this farm and everything on it…especially this family of me and my wife. Picked up as a stray with a barbed wire collar twisted around his neck (somebody intending him as a fighter?) at one of my jobs years ago, Jack has pulled deadly snakes out from under my feet, fought off (and took a bullet next to his spine) house intruders, fought and slain coyotes, coy-dogs and other wild critters intent on catching my chickens or in some way intending me and or this farm evil. In fourteen years he’s never let me down. And even in his recent, age-advanced and sick years, there has never been any doubt from me or my wife that he would have gladly given his life for us at any time.

That’s not ‘just’ a dog.

Nope…that’s a loyal friend and companion. A protector…a guardian.

Even though I have been anticipating such an event, it was still like a hard blow to the gut to realize that my friend of so many years was really gone. I squatted there in the semi-darkness of the pen’s corner in utter silence, unable to lift my hand from his cold head and barely able to breathe for several long seconds. And as much as I had been expecting this---it was, for many long minutes, almost impossible for me to accept.

Jack gone?

IMPOSSIBLE!

Jack never leaves this farm. Never. In over fourteen years he’s never been far enough away from our front porch that I couldn’t call him and have him come running to my side in less that two minutes. Never. I’ve seen Jack in some serious tussles…some brutal combats…but never seen him back away or quit. Fearless, he always stood his ground and kept hammering until he won out.

And yet Death…the reaper of all life…slipped up here in the dark of night…like the silent, clever, thief that he is…and caught Jack asleep and whisked him away from us with the speed of a heartbeat. And I suppose…that ‘this time’ old Jack didn’t struggle so much. He was tired, after all, from his years of fine, loyal service and old age’s constant problems and pains. Still, what a shock to realize that there would be no more Jack around here. No more beloved Jack on ‘this’ farm.

Or would there?

True enough, he’s gone…and soon I’ll get his body into the ground around the fence corner where all our other beloved pets are buried, under those little willow trees… but will that be the end of him? The end of old Jack? I doubt it. The Reaper may have stolen Jack’s life, but I’ll bet you anything that my Jackie Boy ain’t gone from this place. Yeah, he’s thrown off the shackles of his tired, worn-out and sick old body…true enough…but now he ‘s got a better one…maybe back like when I first got him…slick of hair and heavily muscled…prime. Strong. A handsome feller. His eyesight is of a young dog, and naturally his nose and hearing are too. And he can run long and hard and barely be winded and with no worry of his old, arthritic backend giving out on him anymore. Now he is the ultimate Jack. And I seriously doubt if even death can prevent him from watching over this farm and us…his loving and beloved, charges. Me and my wife

All those thoughts raced through my mind as I knelt there in the corner of the fence last night and petted Jack’s cooling head one final time. And realizing that he would never be gone from us…that he would ‘still’ be here with us whether in physical form or not…I felt a calmness, a peace that came over me…and I rose to stand beside my old, still, friend. I wiped away my tears and even smiled.

Jack had his faults as we all do…a hard-headed and stubborn galoot that despite his 120 pounds of rough, coarse hair, thick hide and big, heavy bones always wanted to be an inside dog…a frolicking puppy…and always acted like one to me and my wife---and yet was a fierce and fearsome warrior to the rest of the world.

We loved him and still do…and there is no doubt that he loved us.

And still does.

[Sniper]

Sorry about your loss. I've lost a few friends too in the past, and know how it feels. Hopefully Jack Jr. will keep Jack's spirit with you.


RIP Jack.

[Jester1138]

[BigRed1]

[doubletap22]

[Spook]