Saying Goodbye

My Chocolate Lab was more than a faithful friend, loyal protector and traveling companion: he was my writing buddy. Every morning for nearly fifteen years, Jefferson found his favorite spot on the rug underneath my desk where he endured everything with equal aplomb – my mutterings when a character didn’t behave, my tears over career disappointments, my giddiness over finding just the right phrase, just the right word. He’d let me know with wet, sloppy licks to my hands and bare feet that I was not only his beloved human mama and favorite person in the whole Universe, but I was also a genius.

Though I provided his food and shelter, bought his toys and treats, and trained him in doggie manners, I never “owned” Jefferson. We simply took care of each other.

In winter when the temperatures in Mississippi dropped below freezing and my house felt cold no matter what the thermostat read, he’d let me slip off my shoes and warm my cold feet against his warm fur. In spring when daffodils and forsythia, azaleas and Bradford pear blossoms festooned my yard, he’d grab his Frisbee in his big mouth, press it into my hands and insist I leave the computer to go outside for a romp in the sunshine.

In the summer of 2007 when I was searching for a way to transform an ordinary mystery plot into something extraordinary, he gave me the perfect answer. Make Elvis a dog.

In the deep winter of 1997 as I drove the fifteen hundred miles home from New Hampshire where I’d attended the birth of my second granddaughter, gentle-natured Jefferson showed just how fierce a hundred-pound dog can be. When I was frightened by a trucker in a small Pennsylvania town whose name I no longer remember, when I took a ten-minute nap on the grass in a welcome center in the Shenandoah Valley, when we got caught in the middle of a thunderstorm in Knoxville and somebody tried to get into our less-than-desirable motel room, Jefferson became “Killer,” all hackles and fearsome growls and warning barks.

Jefferson and I pranced our way from the rocky seacoasts of Maine to the white sandy beaches of Florida. We frolicked through the summers of his youth and my prime. We grew gray together.

Then it came time to say goodbye. A stroke stole his ability to walk, but it couldn’t steal his courage and his great heart. And I wouldn’t let it steal his dignity.

I called my very compassionate vet, who came to the house to assist my big guy. With his head in my lap, the feel of sunshine on his back and the sound of birdsong all around, Jefferson slipped quietly into deep sleep.
A simple rock marks his resting place. It’s engraved with one word: courage. Yellow roses bloom where he lies. This summer I’ll add more roses. This fall I’ll plant daffodils and tulips, day lilies and iris.

When I sit in Jefferson’s garden, I’ll understand that indomitable spirits can’t be broken, that kindness is more important than wealth, that true friends are precious beyond measure.
And I will always remember.

Peggy Webb is the award-winning author of 60 plus romance novels, 200 magazine humor columns and two screenplays. Her comedic Southern Cousins Mystery Series, launched in 2008 with Elvis and the Dearly Departed, features amateur sleuths Callie Jones, her cousin Lovie (who’s had more lovers than Elvis has fleas), and her Basset Hound who thinks he’s the reincarnated King of Rock ‘n’ Roll. Peggy is former adjunct instructor at MS State University. Her website is http://www.peggywebb.com/