Jazz

When I moved from Robertsdale to Excel back in 2004 my parents bought me the best present in the world (at least to me). They bought me a Labrador Retriever. They got her from the local animal shelter. Apparently she had been abandoned there the night before. I could tell she had been beaten horribly. Her body was so small. She was underweight. You could count every single bone in her poor body. I knew I could take care of her, and make her healthy just like a dog should be. I named her Jazz. Jazz was extremely skiddish around everyone, but I was the only person she would allow to come up to her an pet her. The moment that happened, I knew she was my dog! My mom took Jazz to the vet for me when I was at school one day. When I got home, my mom told me some news. The vet said Jazz was about a year old. He also said gave us some sad news, Jazz was suffering from heart worms. Heart worms are a species of parasitic worms (Dirofilaria immitis) that live and reproduce in the chambers of the heart of an animal. The vet said he could do surgery on Jazz, but there was no guarantee that it would be successful. He also said that the surgery is very painful, and could not be all done at once that it was going to be a series of surgeries. My mom and I talked about it. She said that to put Jazz through so much pain and for the surgery to not be guaranteed successful was not worth it. I agreed. Over time Jazz was the most loving dog in the whole wide world. I had surgery to get my tonsils and adnoids taken out, and when my mom brought me home Jazz met her at the door. Jazz walked with us into my room and laid in my bed right beside me (luckily I had a big bed because Jazz was a pretty big dog). Well throughout the course of my recovery, Jazz only left my side to go to the bathroom or to go get my mom if I made the slightest sound. It was like Jazz knew that I was not supposed to talk and she was doing the "talking" for me by going into the room that my mom was in, barking at her, and getting her to follow her into my room to see what I needed. My surgery was not the only time she did this. Anytime I was sick, my "momma" dog Jazz was in my room basically at all times. Jazz was very protective over me. She truly acted like another mother to me. Over time Jazz became the most friendly, loving dog ever. Everyone loved Jazz, but it was I who loved her the most. It was like Jazz understood when I was upset. If she heard me crying, she would come into my room, jump on my bed, and put her head in my lap and it was like she was waiting on me to tell her what was wrong. I always told her because I knew she wouldn't judge me plus she was a dog and dogs can't talk back. Still it was like she just wanted me to know that she was always there if I needed to talk. Over time, Jazz was getting older and sicker. Her heart worms were getting worse. Even though she was sick, was still kept her nurturing nature. Then this past summer came around. I knew something was wrong with my Jazz. She was not running around and wagging her tail when I came home from school and work. She would get up from where she was, and then when she got to me she would just lay there. I knew something was not right with her. I took as good care of her as I could, but I knew she could not be cured. I took her back to the vet and he said her disease had progressed to a severe level. It got to the point where Jazz was struggling to breathe. I was more than upset. I could fill an ocean with the tears I shed over my dear Jazz. I knew what had to be done for her. I had to repay her for all the love she had given me. I talked to my mom about it, and she said it was time to put Jazz to sleep so she wouldn't have to suffer anymore. I knew she was right. I did NOT want to admit it, but I knew it. I had Jazz on my bed while my mom called the animal shelter to find out what to do.. I was crying on Jazz, and she got the strength to pick her head up, look at me, and lick my face. I felt like she was telling me it was all going to be okay. My mom came into my room, sat down, and told me the news. The lady she knew very well at the animal shelter said the best thing to do for Jazz, was to bring her in then and have her put down. My heart broke, but deep down I knew it was the right thing. I looked at Jazz, and I could see the pain in her eyes. I could see that she was desperate for help. I knew I could not be selfish and make her suffer just do I could be happy to have her there with me. I got up my strength and got ready to take Jazz to the animal shelter. The animal shelter lady said my mom could give Jazz some pain medicine to relax her. After that, we loaded Jazz up in my dad's truck, and off we went. I just held on to Jazz and cried. Jazz just laid there, which was very unusual for her. We got to the animal shelter, and it was time to tell my dear Jazz good-bye. That was one of the hardest things I ever had to do, but I knew it was the right thing. Jazz had done so much for me, and I knew I had to pay her back. The lady took her into the room and put Jazz down. When the lady came out of the room, she told my mom that Jazz was so sick that it did not even take half of the amount of medicine they give animals to put them to sleep to put Jazz down. She also said Jazz did not fight the shot (which was really odd because Jazz ALWAYS fought shots). At that point I knew it was Jazz's time. My mom, the animal shelter lady, and I wrapped Jazz in sheets and put her in the back seat of my dad's truck. We got Jazz home and my dad dug the hole and we laid Jazz to rest. I went back in to my room to just think things through and I found this little faded blue pill looking thing. I showed my mom what it was. Come to find out Jazz had spit the medicine back onto my bed. So it was not the aid of the medicine that made Jazz calm for the shot. It was the fact that she was ready for peace is what had her ready to get the shot to put her to sleep. In an odd way it gave me peace. I knew that we had done the right thing. We had given Jazz peace. (Sadly this all happened 4 days before I moved to college)