She Was

              A Good 'Ol Jack

Becca was our first dog as a married couple.  She was our “kid before the kids”.  If we could keep a dog alive, then we figured we could do the parenting thing, we joked. The portrait I painted of her hangs in a prominent place in our living room where I gaze at it every morning while sipping my daily coffee.  She is sitting in an alert position, one ear half-cocked, as if her attention is caught by a squirrel climbing the tree outside the window. As I look at her intelligent gaze, I remember how we taught her to sit, beg, lay down, roll over, and play dead.  We were proud parents showing off the skills we taught our first child.  My husband and I reminisce about what a good dog she was in our early marriage.  She lived for 13 years, and was with us through the birth of our first-born son, and twin daughters.  She tolerated the kids well, even though our attention to her had dwindled greatly once they came along.  She loved to take walks with her pack.  She loved soaking in the sun.  She loved playing fetch and chasing the kids around the fenced in yard.  My son was 10 and my daughters were 7 when she passed.  Now that they are older, they don’t remember much of her, but my husband and I do. She was an important part of our family, and always will remain in our hearts.