Slowly, their numbers decreased, but in the midst of this, their children had children, seven, and they became our grand puppies.
I know. They are dogs, right? Not human children. Not worth a single tear to those who have never loved them. Yet, their value to us was immeasurable.
At our grand puppies’ births, they were so cute. My wife and I debated on finding them homes, but we could not part with any of them. They grew from those tiny creatures one could hold in their hand, to dogs of medium height. They would run and play, leap over the fence and disobey, but they were ours, and we were theirs.
Time catches all things.
They aged. They became slower. The fence jumping ceased to be an option. One hurt its vertebra and could not walk. Others died of causes we could not stop in time. In the end, there was only one left. Her name was Jessie May, named after her name sake, my mother-in-law.
She was tree climber, a fence jumper. She broke her leg, and we had her leg repaired. The intelligence behind her eyes was amazing. She was pacifist, unless of course she could bluff you. She was sweet. She was the only puppy that had black hair. She was the last.
All her brothers and sisters had passed on before her, yet she persevered. Despite having strokes, each time she pulled out and began to function again. We walked her, feed her, and loved her. Yesterday, on June 14th, 2016, she passed away.
We will miss all our grand puppies. The hole at their passing will not leave. The tears in our hearts will not dry up.
They will be remembered.
James William Peercy
June 15th, 2016