One week...

It’s been a week tonight since we said a final goodnight to Jasmin. A rough week for all of us, but mostly me. She was my girl. A present in fact, albeit planned and anticipated, for my 27th birthday. I hope I never forget how, on the day I picked her up from the breeder, she came to me as though we had been friends for years. The entire way home she lay awkwardly stretched across the centre console of the car in order to rest her head on my lap. From that first moment, to her last, she was mine.

This last week has been filled with tears and chuckles, habit-breaking and bittersweet memories. Coming home for the first time, and looking at our front window, expecting to see her waiting for me was particularly difficult. No wet nose sniffing for clues to my whereabouts, no snorting through the grocery bags looking for treats, no pacing at the patio door to be let out. We had so many dog-related habits — more than we realized. Leaving the radio on when we went out. Tossing a cookie as we closed the door behind us. Making sure all bedroom doors were closed, and toys picked up from the living room floor. Letting her out before bed, and administering her nighttime pill. All habits we are finding very difficult to break. I have stood several times at the patio door in tears, just hoping she would come trotting up the deck stairs and into the house. Even Andrew has caught himself wanting to beckon Jazzy to come upstairs after an evening of TV in the basement.

I fear I am already forgetting things about Jasmin. I've been searching for photos, and jotting down those recollections as they come — sometimes fast and furious, and partnered with a blast of tears, others bring a subtle smile to my face, or the urge to share a silly memory with Quinn. She adored Quinn. He was her baby too. Even before his birth, she adored him. During my pregnancy, she stuck to me like glue, and in the years they had together, it was clear she took Motherhood seriously by the way she guarded over him like a Mama bear. I think her nose was really put out of joint when she realized another was on the way. She was always careful of Jake, and made sure he was okay, but I do believe she felt a stab of resentment upon his arrival.

So many people have expressed their condolences, and have shown such warm support for our loss. Thank you all. It is true that our pet friends quickly become members of our family. Unfair though it is that we only have them for a short time, I like to think the love we share with them is extremely concentrated for this very reason.

I remember thinking in the week after Jasmin joined us, "If for some reason Jasmin had to leave us today, I will be so happy for the time we had with her." And I am nothing less than ecstatic for the 8 years she was my friend. Her spirit is alive in my heart, though I do miss her terribly.

---

Most Shar-Pei live to an average of 9 years of age. Based on her recent symptoms of weight loss, bleeding and loss of appetite, our veterinarian suspects Jasmin had Gastric Carcinoma. We chose to have Jasmin cremated and her remains returned to us. This summer we will find a hot, sunny patch of garden to lay her to rest. Oh, how she loved to lay in the sun.