Sunday, July 19, 2009
JETT: JANUARY 1, 2000 — JULY 19, 2009
A big piece of my heart died this morning.
Jett and I had only been together seven years, but she was my daily shadow, my nightly therapy, and my 24/7 soulmate.
I’ve chronicled our life together, and her sudden swift battle with leukemia, and now I’d like to find some closure by sharing her last 24 hours.
Yesterday was bittersweet. Jett’s farewell party was as great a sendoff as any dog could get. From 9 in the morning until 5:30 in the evening, the house and the yard were filled with a constant stream of people and dogs coming to say goodbye.
The menu was simple. Soft drinks and cookies. Water and biscuits.
Jett, who was on a prednisone driven diet to keep her strength up, got small meals throughout the day. It was a long, tiring, cathartic day for all of us, and despite the fact that Jett was waning, her primal instincts kept kicking in and she managed to soak up the event and venture out from time to time to play with her friends.
For dinner I grilled her a shell steak. My wife and I couldn’t eat.
She had a difficult night. On the bed, off the bed, with bouts of rapid panting. At 4:20 a.m. she barked once from downstairs. It’s not something she does often, especially in the middle of the night. But I know the code.
Wake up and open the door. I have to pee.
I did. And she did. Dignity to the very end.
Nobody slept very much and breakfast started with five biscuits instead of the usual one. Then ice cream — two cups of Frosty Paws. For dessert she had fresh roast beef, turkey and a bone stuffed with peanut butter.
No meds.
After breakfast we sat together, our eyes locked, our foreheads pressed together, and I repeated the message her trainer asked me tell her.
I put her leash on and we walked to as many of her favorite spots on the property as she could. I unplugged the electric fence, but it was strictly symbolic. She hasn’t needed the collar in ages.
Jett made it into the back seat of the car on her own and my wife sat beside her.
Normally, when we drive to the vet or the dog groomer I tell her we’re going to Disney World. She falls for it every time. But this time I told her the truth.
I have to warn you — these next few paragraphs will be difficult to read. I have to write them, but you certainly don’t have to read them.
The vet escorted us to the back room, told us what was going to happen, and my wife and I sat down on the floor. I held Jett in my arms and her head rested in my wife’s lap.
I sang her the song I had written for her, and then wailing and sobbing out of control, told her how much she meant to me.
First, the anesthetic, and a minute later, with my hand pressed to her heart, the vet gave her the final injection. A second later her heart stopped. My wife and I held her, and when the vet finally took her from my arms I looked at her face. It was, as it always has been, beautiful. But in death the stress and the discomfort that I had been staring at for two weeks were gone.
Jett was, after this valiant struggle, finally at peace.
My wife and I are not. But we’re working on it. Thank you to the many people who posted messages here and on Facebook offering us their prayers, their love, and their support. Thanks to the friends and family who called, wrote, or came to the house to say goodbye. Thanks to Dr. Howard Rothstein and the entire staff at Saugerties Animal Hospital for their dedication and understanding throughout the years, and most especially since that morning on July 4.
Thank you to Kyle Warren, our gifted trainer, whom I have known and trusted for seven years. Early on, Kyle taught me that the key to a successful human-canine relationship was not what he could teach Jett, but what he could teach me.
And finally, to my sweet girl, Jett. Thank you for letting me think I rescued you, when it was you who rescued me. Thank you for seven years of unparalleled joy and unconditional love. Thank you for teaching me so much about myself.
I will love you, cherish you, and hold you in my heart forever. And I know that when I take my final journey, you’ll be the first one to greet me, racing, as always, to welcome me home.
Marshall posted on July 19, 2009 8:34 PMWhen we clicked on our Lomax and Biggs bookmark this morning to see if the boys were up to anything new, much to our chagrin we read about Jett. Hopefully you and your wife will find some solace in the following piece we found posted on the Westmoreland County Obedience Training Club's website.
In fond memory of Jett....
The Rainbow Bridge
There is a bridge connecting Heaven and Earth. It is called the Rainbow Bridge because of its many colors.
Just this side of the Rainbow Bridge, there is a land of meadows, hills and valleys with lush green grass.
When a beloved pet dies, the pet goes to this place. There is always food and water, and warm spring weather. Those old and frail animals are young again. Those who have been maimed are made whole again. They play all day with each other.
But, there is one thing missing. They are not with their special person who loved them on earth. So, each day they run and play until the day comes when one suddenly stops playing and looks up. The nose twitches, the ears are up, the eyes are staring, and this one suddenly runs from the group.
You have been spotted, and when you and your special friend meet, you cling together in joyous reunion, never to be parted again. Your face is kissed again and again and again; your hands again caress the beloved head, and you look once more into the eyes of your trusting pet, so long gone from your life but never absent from your heart.
Then you cross the Rainbow Bridge together, never again to be separated.
Midnight and Matrix posted on July 19, 2009 11:18 PMMarshall, I am so sorry for your loss. I think the fact that she let you think you rescued her is certainly a message (in doggie-speak) that you were more than good enough for and to her. She relaxed enough to be "obedient" (cooperative?) and maybe you did too! ;-)
May you find peace in your memories of your time with her. It was far too short, but they sound like they were very special and most worthy of finding peace in.
"grief is the price we pay for love"
Michelle
Marshall,
Somehow I knew last Thursday that I was saying goodbye to Jett.
All day, she was only interested in one person in the room: you. Jett loved you as much as you loved her.
Jett meant everything to you and you meant everything to Jett. You were an incredible team.
Jett had a GREAT life with you and in her heart always knew that you rescued her.
Lots of love to you, Jett and Emily. Jett is at peace now and she wants you to be too.
XOXOXO
Fran
I have been through this before with a beloved cat and even though it was ten years ago, I can recall the last moments of her life with vivid clarity. I have yet to suffer the same fate with one of our dogs, but I dread it more than I can say. Robby and I are both heartbroken for you and your family.
As for Jett, I hope she is surrounded by all the tennis balls she can chase, all the chew bones she can gnaw, and all the peanut butter she can lick. I believe she'll continue to look after you, just from a new place.
Shelly posted on July 20, 2009 8:46 AMgreetings Marshall Warren..
So sorry to hear of your sorrows of Jetts passing. Your tribute was heartfelt and very moving. I cannot know the depth of your feeling, only a small glimpse of it. Four years ago I returned from relocating to Ft. Lauderdale, where I began a new life. I missed being close to my son, and his new rat-terrier Bisquit. Although not a 'pet-person' I fell in love with Bisquit, who would jump up and down wildly whenever we would meet. Bisquit became my pal, always following me around...always understanding my ups and downs.. Now my son is moving to Phoenix, where his mom has also relocated, and will attend University there. The tears I have now are for his farewell, and of Bisquits. My best to you, pal....Ed L
ed leiman posted on July 20, 2009 10:47 AMI'm so sorry for your loss, Marshall. She seems like such a sweet dog and 7 years is not long enough. Your family will be in my thoughts.
Shelly posted on July 20, 2009 10:49 AMMarshall, I've already commented on Facebook, but that was before I read this. Tears streamed down my face as I read, and I well up each time I think about it.
Know that you and your family are im my thoughts and prayers, and I'm sending you all the good vibes I can muster.
Suzy Voices posted on July 20, 2009 12:23 PMMy condolences on the loss of your beloved Jett. Your send-off party sounded bittersweet and extraordinarily thoughtful.
Be well.
gregory huffstutter posted on July 20, 2009 3:37 PMMr. Karp,
My deepest most heartfelt condolences. Your tribute was so very sweet and moving. Jett was well-loved by not only you but all your fans as well. Her reviews were some of the best I have ever read.
Please know my heart aches with you and your fammily. Ya'lls love for her was so evident. Country girl wrote a wonderful, beautiful farewell to her sister yesterday. Jett was truly a part of your family in every single way.
Please tell Jett goodby and God Bless for me. You all will be in my prayers to have the strenght to continue on, the memories to bring you through, and a heart fuller than it was 7 years ago.
With Love, Debbie
debb posted on July 21, 2009 12:03 PMMarshall
I feel your great sadness. When I was a young child, I had a pet dog that was struck by a car. An unusual strength carried him out of the street, up the driveway, and into my arms where he passed away as I cried, while scolding him for his carelessness and telling him how much I loved him and would miss him.
Dogs are great teachers about life and death.
My Spirit is with you and also with Jett
Vin DiGerlando
Vin DiGerlando posted on July 21, 2009 7:28 PMMarshall
I feel your great sadness. When I was a young child, I had a pet dog that was struck by a car. An unusual strength carried him out of the street, up the driveway, and into my arms where he passed away as I cried, while scolding him for his carelessness and telling him how much I loved him and would miss him.
Dogs are great teachers about life and death.
My Spirit is with you and also with Jett
Vin DiGerlando
Vin DiGerlando posted on July 21, 2009 7:28 PMMarshall
I feel your great sadness. When I was a young child, I had a pet dog that was struck by a car. An unusual strength carried him out of the street, up the driveway, and into my arms where he passed away as I cried, while scolding him for his carelessness and telling him how much I loved him and would miss him.
Dogs are great teachers about life and death.
My Spirit is with you and also with Jett
Vin DiGerlando
Vin DiGerlando posted on July 21, 2009 7:28 PMMarshall
I feel your great sadness. When I was a young child, I had a pet dog that was struck by a car. An unusual strength carried him out of the street, up the driveway, and into my arms where he passed away as I cried, while scolding him for his carelessness and telling him how much I loved him and would miss him.
Dogs are great teachers about life and death.
My Spirit is with you and also with Jett
Vin DiGerlando
Vin DiGerlando posted on July 21, 2009 7:28 PMIt's truly magical to know that there are people in the world that choose to love animals, knowing full-well that they will in all likelihood outlive them. I also like knowing that we'd do it all again, too, because it's just plain worth it.
I'll bet wherever she is, she's telling everyone all about you, too, and is thankful for her full, blessed life and her dignified and peaceful death.
I'm going to go collect myself and hug my basset hound.
take care (and I'm a HUGE fan!)
Tara posted on July 24, 2009 1:48 PMDear Sir,
Having been on vacation for a week, I just read your sad news this morning.
I have been where you are with 8 of my pets thus far. It never gets any easier. The only "peace" is that I know in my heart I did the very best I could do in each of their circumstances. And I know you did that for Jett. She is and will forever be with you. My thoughts and prayers are with you and Ms. Emily.
Blessings,
Robin
Hello, Mr. Karp I am saddened by your loss. I have also known the loss of a beloved dog. Last year I lost my dog Scruffy, a Boxer. I had him for almost 16 years. He' still in my heart. I love your novels, and hope to see many more in the future. Always remember: Dog is a Man's Best Friend!!!
Ryan D posted on July 26, 2009 3:11 PM