Jack came into my life when I was in eighth grade. I remember that the day we brought him home, they put him in a little box-crate for transportation and he kept popping out of the lid. (Hence the name: Jack in the box.) He was a ball of energy and fluff and would nip at my ankles. He really woke up our two other dogs that we had at the time. The oldest, Max, definitely gave us that look of "Really? Another puppy?"
Jack was a chubby, fluffy little goober. He had silly crooked teeth and a very dramatic howl that he would torment my family with if I left him at home for more than five minutes. (We were best buds.) Later in his life, Jack fell very suddenly and unexpectedly blind. He was about seven or eight. I remember realizing he was blind when we were running through the house and he would ricochet off the walls of the hallway, jostled forward by the other dogs. He'd run headlong into the couch, back up and shake it off and try again. After an appointment with the vet, they confirmed: yup, blind. But he still had that goofy grin on his fuzzy little face. It never slowed him down. It never made him mope.
Jack passed away when he was ten years, one month and one day old. It was tax day, and for some reason that stuck out to me as a detail to remember. Three years later and I still think about him a lot. He was the sweetest, cuddliest dog I've ever met and loved my more than I had ever been loved in my life at a time when I really, really needed to be loved. When he was sick, I learned how to place a dog IV and we would have an hour a night doing SUBQ fluids. He had a bed next to mine where he padded off to sleep, tucked under covers and with his head on a pillow like a small child. I had jingle bells on my slippers so he could follow me around the house without running into things or falling down the stairs. He was everything, everything and taught me so much.
Next, stay curious. Try new things, explore new places. Don't let fear or circumstance make you hesitate to step outside of your comfort zone. Look at everything like you're seeing it for the first time, like it may be the last time. Say yes, thank you. Be confident in what you say and do, even if you have to fake it -- even if you're running into walls. Never give up. Never quit. When you fall, back up, shake it off, and try again.
And of course, be happy. The most important thing Jack (or "Little Bear" as I often called him) taught me was to not feel sorry for myself. There are so many things he went through when he got older and never for a second did it slow him down. Even sick, and blind, he'd spend hours running away from me in the snow, kicking up little snowballs when he heard me come close to try and grab him, always with that goofy grin that only dogs and certain boys can manage. He loved to play fetch, even if he couldn't always find the ball. He loved to have visitors, even if he couldn't see them. He loved to eat and get his belly rubbed and go on car rides. It didn't take a lot to make him happy, as it doesn't take a lot to make most dogs happy. Simple things were enough. Being with the humans he loved was enough. I will never forget that.
Happy 13th birthday Little Bear.
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