Saying Goodbye To Jill
Eleven years ago, my husband and I went to a kill shelter to look for a new family member. There, we found a tiny, 8-week old solid black puppy. Historically, black dogs have trouble being adopted, although for the life of me, I don’t know why!
My husband wanted a dog that would weight about 40 pounds. The pound staff said, “Yep. This dog will weight about 40 pounds.”
Hubby lifted the puppy’s HUGE paw and said, “There is no way this dog will weight 40 pounds.”
The puppy bounded out the cage, grabbed my husband’s pant leg, and began to tug and growl. How could I leave that puppy there?
Still, we took the puppy home on a “trial” basis.
We named her Jill, because you have to call a puppy something. And even if we decided to take her back, she needed a name.
Over the next eleven years, Jill traveled all the US with my husband and me. She lived in our house, had great food, never cold, never left out in the yard. One dog bed wasn’t enough. She had three piled on top of each other. (The Princess and The Pea!)
As you may can tell, she did weight 40 pounds as predicted…. 40 in the front and 40 in the back!
Yesterday, we had to let Jill go. Old age. Strokes. It was time. She was ready. We were not.
RIP Jill. You will be missed. And Loved forever.