Little Jesse is our husky dog who isn’t “little” but because he is the baby of the pack, he is Alex’s and I “Little Jesse.” We admittedly have a soft spot in our hearts for him because last year we almost lost him and his epilepsy has gotten worse. Before we got him we didn’t know dogs could get epilepsy nor be allergic to meats. (Our James the labrador is a vegetarian.) I suppose that’s life: there is always something new to learn.
Jesse has taught us a lot about life in his little ways. For one, he’s taught us to be more observant and remember that there is more to life than the daily grind of work. He’s a dog that demands attention and has his routines. He knows what he wants and when he wants it. He will stand there making hungry almost complaining kind of noises while I dish up his food. After he eats, he will need to drink his water. If the bucket of water isn’t there or its empty, he’ll stand there looking at you. Then he’ll beeline for the door. He has to relieve himself before coming back for a long nap. If you forget, he’ll give you his paw and turn his face to the door. Nothing wakes him during this after meal nap.
When his brain goes fuzzy (because of his epilepsy) you have to really watch him and see what he wants and what are the triggers that set it off. He’ll feel uncomfortable and restless and need a bit of love. Sometimes a sit on our lap calms him down, sometimes its a dark corner or a little ice cream. When this happens, he reminds you what are the priorities in life. We stop whatever we are doing to give him a hug or to just lay down by his side. It’s moments like these that make life and its moments like these that reminds us that not everything can be controlled and that you will just have to make the best of what you have.
He is a constant reminder that life can be taken away from us at any day. Most days when we get back, he’ll run to you, give a little jump and kiss you on the cheek. But one day we know that he may have a series of seizures while we are out and perhaps it doesn’t stop. We give him medication and love, but that is about all we can do. He has his own battle to fight. Nothing in the world can replace the “little moments” and memories. I know he’s a dog, but dogs too have emotions and love and a part of our family.