Jazz.

Listen to this:


While you read.


Last night (Tuesday night), I got an e-mail from my dad, asking me to call him from my cell phone. I found this a strange request as obviously I'm overseas, and this costs more than I make in a day (probably because I'm unemployed). Regardless, I knew something was up. He informed me of the fact that my dog, Jazz Bremer, was on her last leg.

I'll spare the details which involved me bawling hysterically and wishing I could be back home, but I knew there was no way around it.There had been plenty of false alarms in the past, and part of me wasn't willing to admit the basic facts to myself.

This morning, my mom had to make a solo run to the vet up in Hayward, Wisconsin, as she and Jazz were up at our cabin alone for a couple days.

And I quote from mom's e-mail:
"It was a VERY peaceful process. They injected her and she just drifted off."


She said there was a point when Jazz just looked at her, and she knew. She knew what she had to do, and she knew what Jazz needed above all.


Jazz. MY buddy. The same dog that half-swallowed a muskie lure when she was one.
The same dog that swallowed half a corn cob, and was rushed to the vet for "emergency exploratory surgery".
The same dog that ate an entire bag of green paintballs, of which we all suffered the consequences of for about a week to follow...

The same dog that ate an entire bag of powdered doughnuts, and tried to hide the evidence.


The same dog that never left my mom's side as she fought through cancer.

Still even writing this, and being so far from home, it hasn't completely sunk in yet. I have gone over in my mind countless times how I wish I would've paid more attention to her during this or that event, or why I didn't let her outside when she desperately needed to go. I've gone through guilt for both ignoring and punishing her, as well as total and complete denial that she won't be there when I get home. How could I possibly be so ungrateful around the one thing that has never looked down on me?

I can't help but think of all the events in my life that revolved around that dog. From her unwrapping (or destroying) Christmas gifts, to watching her absolutely roam and own Moose Lake in northern Wisconsin.













I know whenever you read anything about other people losing a dog, it doesn't make a substantial impact on your daily routine. But to those of you that have dogs: Go hug them. Play with them. Do not take them for granted. Dog years move pretty quickly: I'm speaking as an expert here. For everyone that knew/loved/played with Jazz- She loves you, too.



She took a tiny piece of my heart for 13 years, and the rest of my life to come. A first dog is like a first love- The cliche' "You'll never forget them." It blows my mind that she had such an impact on my life, and yet didn't say a single word.....







Miss you, Buddy.
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