At roughly 2:00am on Sunday morning, our alpha bitch, Jenny, Kendara’s Spellbound WSX, died. She was 12 years old. Jenny, our Tally’s mother, came to us after her breeding career was over at age 7. On the very last walk I took with her, really just scant hours before, her step was as light, sure, and beautiful as it had been the day she came to us.
That day 5 years go she walked into our house, our lives, and our hearts and immediately took over. She maintained order in our little pack with constant gentle influence and consistent good nature.
Jenny was a magnificent therapy dog. When she was working all of her attention was focused on the people who needed her and she unfailingly knew who needed her. The good that she has done will live on in the hearts and memories of all of those she has helped over the years including me.
Jenny died of gastric dilation volvulus, commonly known as torsion or bloat. She had passed an absolutely perfect day doing the things she loved the best: we had stayed the night at The Caboose, she had spent much of the day with family, she had the opportunity to help some young children who needed her, she was adored by everyone who saw her. When we arrived home late that evening she was showing uncharacteristic restlessness. She began to whimper. We immediately took her to the emergency vet where she was well-treated and they did the best they could to help her. A little while later she was dead.
Jenny was simply one of the finest creatures I have ever know, intelligent, loving, gentle. She was our anchor and our rock and I don’t know what our pack will do without her. Tally is knocked completely out of the box. We will all have difficulty adjusting to her absence. We have all learned so much from her that I simply don’t know where to begin.
She kept order in our little pack, was a companion and authority figure to our adult dogs, and gave Mira a wonderful education in what it means to be a great adult dog. She was always the first to remind us that dogs love hamburger and steak, too.
Jenny’s beautiful dark eyes had the brightest and most joyous expression I’ve ever seen in a dog. On Sunday morning I watched those lustrous eyes grow dim until the light behind them had vanished. I hope someday I’ll see that expression again but until I do there will just be a sad emptiness that her eyes had brightened for me.
I miss you, my girl.
Sympathies for your loss.
I dislike equating losing pets with losing children or friends, but it is normal to sorrow when you lose a dog who is your friend.
I am so, so sorry.
I am sorry to hear of your lost of Jenny. I lost my “Amber” over a year ago, who was my heart and canine soulmate of 18 years. The sorrow is deep I am sure and my family gives your our condolances.
I’m sorry to hear that. I know how hard this is.
I haven’t had a dog since I was a teenager, but I remember very well the day Lucky (a cocker spaniel named after Hopalong Cassidy’s sidekick) died from congestive heart failure. My sympathies.
It’s a shame that dogs don’t have a longer lifespan.
I’m so sorry to hear about Jenny. I am glad to hear she didn’t suffer long, though. My sympathies to you and the rest of the “pack”
We are so sorry about Jenny’s passing, and Marie and I feel truly fortunate to have been there on her last day. Please accept our warm best wishes as you, Janice, Tally, Qila and Mira go through the grieving process together. Love, Ann and family
Many sympathies on the loss of a family member — as all beloved dogs are.
Thanks, Dan, and everybody. It’s less that Jenny was a family member and more that we were members of her pack. Now we’re learning the hard lesson: dogs come and dogs go but the pack goes on. Our little one, Mira, seems to be assuming the role of pack leader—she’s behaving in a remarkably mature and responsible manner. And the pack goes on.
Aooooh, ooooh. Heartbreaking. What a treasure your time together was for every member of the pack.