Jake, My Hero
Suffice it to say, this past week has been a trying one on many levels. The election of a man who has stoked the fires of racist, misogynistic, homophobic hatred is earth-shaking. Stay tuned for my next post "Before and After Selma".
But for today, I want to pay tribute to my buddy, my companion, my hero - Jake.
The first time I met Jake was when I came to pick up Lisa for our first date. Jake, ever Lisa's protector, quickly deemed me an unknown threat - and nearly broke the door down as I walked up to the front door at 908 Cherry Grove Road.
Jake and I worked on our relationship, and eventually Jake adopted me into his herd. Anyone so honored, can testify to his unwavering vigilance and protection. In the attached photo, mere moments away from his death, and on a day where he himself was suffering greatly, Jake mustered himself to warn and monitor the approaching van of the veterinarian who would end his suffering.
Even as I write these words, there is a lump in my throat and tears in my eyes. To some, this might seem an overreaction. Possibly even silly to those that have never loved an animal so much. So, in honor of Jake, and of all those selfless servants who work tirelessly at their calling - I write this tribute.
My sorrow for Jake is in itself justifiable. He was loyal and loved without judgment or equivocation. Whenever I was sick or depressed, Jake knew. I did not need to explain or solicit his companionship. Without fail, Jake would join me in bed, and either lay his head upon my chest or quietly lie against me until I recovered.
He did this because he knew what I needed without words. When Heaven created dogs like Jake, I wonder if it was because it knew we needed a standard - a clear picture of what real goodness looked like.
So why is my heart broken? Why is this lump ever-ready to reappear when I even attempt to express my sorrow? My sorrow is not only for Jake, but also for all of the heroes who go unrecognized and unappreciated in the world.
I think of all the mothers and fathers who work multiple jobs to give their children the opportunities that they themselves desperately wanted and needed - but were denied.
I think of those vilified in Trump's America - people of color, non-Christians or anyone LGBT.
Can you imagine the courage required to leave everything you know and love to immigrate to an unknown land of opportunity - just for the sake of a real chance for you or your family?
Can you imagine the courage to come out as gay to your family when their beliefs - the ones hurled at you all your life - condemn you as a sinner or a pervert - and surely as someone "less than" those of whom they approve?
Can you imagine the courage to wear a hijab or a Sikh turban in the Land of Dixie where we know "..old times there are not forgotten…"?
Can you imagine all those that work at Planned Parenthood - or any abortion clinic in America - when you fear for your own life due to constant protests outside your building - but you continue because you have seen the faces and heard the stories of desperate women in desperate situations?
Can you - after all - imagine the courage it takes to set your own course, to take full responsibility for your own life - regardless of your friend's or family's beliefs or condemnation?
All of these are heroes to me. All of them better and more courageous than am I. And for all of these heroes, and for Jake - I have cried and grieved this week.
I recall the scene of "Braveheart" where the hero - William Wallace - dies a horrible death at the hands of his enemies. And the final scene - where those that remembered his sacrifice honored him with their own lives and death in the defeat of their hated British oppressors.
So, what will I do with my grief? How will I respond to the noble death of my hero? More importantly, how will I respond to the resurgence of hatred, misogyny and bigotry in Trump's America?
For me, I must honor all of the heroes regaled above with more than tears. Tears, although precious, are not a sufficient honorarium.
For Jake, I must be a better man. A more selfless man. A more vigilant man.
For all those other heroes, I must never be silent, I must never tolerate any injustice I see. I must support with time and money to oppose injustice. I must sacrifice my own comfort and leisure to volunteer at all those agencies that protect those most vulnerable.
I must never tire or waver to protect my herd - just like Jake.
Because as MLK taught us - "Injustice any where is a threat to justice everywhere."
Jake, rest in peace, my buddy. My companion. My hero.
dg
But for today, I want to pay tribute to my buddy, my companion, my hero - Jake.
The first time I met Jake was when I came to pick up Lisa for our first date. Jake, ever Lisa's protector, quickly deemed me an unknown threat - and nearly broke the door down as I walked up to the front door at 908 Cherry Grove Road.
Jake and I worked on our relationship, and eventually Jake adopted me into his herd. Anyone so honored, can testify to his unwavering vigilance and protection. In the attached photo, mere moments away from his death, and on a day where he himself was suffering greatly, Jake mustered himself to warn and monitor the approaching van of the veterinarian who would end his suffering.
Even as I write these words, there is a lump in my throat and tears in my eyes. To some, this might seem an overreaction. Possibly even silly to those that have never loved an animal so much. So, in honor of Jake, and of all those selfless servants who work tirelessly at their calling - I write this tribute.
My sorrow for Jake is in itself justifiable. He was loyal and loved without judgment or equivocation. Whenever I was sick or depressed, Jake knew. I did not need to explain or solicit his companionship. Without fail, Jake would join me in bed, and either lay his head upon my chest or quietly lie against me until I recovered.
He did this because he knew what I needed without words. When Heaven created dogs like Jake, I wonder if it was because it knew we needed a standard - a clear picture of what real goodness looked like.
So why is my heart broken? Why is this lump ever-ready to reappear when I even attempt to express my sorrow? My sorrow is not only for Jake, but also for all of the heroes who go unrecognized and unappreciated in the world.
I think of all the mothers and fathers who work multiple jobs to give their children the opportunities that they themselves desperately wanted and needed - but were denied.
I think of those vilified in Trump's America - people of color, non-Christians or anyone LGBT.
Can you imagine the courage required to leave everything you know and love to immigrate to an unknown land of opportunity - just for the sake of a real chance for you or your family?
Can you imagine the courage to come out as gay to your family when their beliefs - the ones hurled at you all your life - condemn you as a sinner or a pervert - and surely as someone "less than" those of whom they approve?
Can you imagine the courage to wear a hijab or a Sikh turban in the Land of Dixie where we know "..old times there are not forgotten…"?
Can you imagine all those that work at Planned Parenthood - or any abortion clinic in America - when you fear for your own life due to constant protests outside your building - but you continue because you have seen the faces and heard the stories of desperate women in desperate situations?
Can you - after all - imagine the courage it takes to set your own course, to take full responsibility for your own life - regardless of your friend's or family's beliefs or condemnation?
All of these are heroes to me. All of them better and more courageous than am I. And for all of these heroes, and for Jake - I have cried and grieved this week.
I recall the scene of "Braveheart" where the hero - William Wallace - dies a horrible death at the hands of his enemies. And the final scene - where those that remembered his sacrifice honored him with their own lives and death in the defeat of their hated British oppressors.
So, what will I do with my grief? How will I respond to the noble death of my hero? More importantly, how will I respond to the resurgence of hatred, misogyny and bigotry in Trump's America?
For me, I must honor all of the heroes regaled above with more than tears. Tears, although precious, are not a sufficient honorarium.
For Jake, I must be a better man. A more selfless man. A more vigilant man.
For all those other heroes, I must never be silent, I must never tolerate any injustice I see. I must support with time and money to oppose injustice. I must sacrifice my own comfort and leisure to volunteer at all those agencies that protect those most vulnerable.
I must never tire or waver to protect my herd - just like Jake.
Because as MLK taught us - "Injustice any where is a threat to justice everywhere."
Jake, rest in peace, my buddy. My companion. My hero.
dg
Sent from my iPad
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