HOME PLACE: Captain Jack rescues family from grief after loss of beloved Scottie
BY SHEILA HAGAR
I unwrapped our family Christmas gift about two months early this year.
HAGAR
And when I came in the door with it on a recent Thursday evening, everything ground to a halt.
"Hi, Mom," Twin No. 2 called out, her usual greeting to me, her arms already beginning to stretch out for a hug.
One second later she erupted in a scream.
"OMIGOSH. OMIGOSH. Mom has a dog!"
It was true. At the end of a bright red leash was a long drink of love, with floppy ears and a shiny, black coat. A standard dachshund, of all things, the kind most of us haven't seen for years.
It was Captain Jack to the rescue of a family still trying hard to paddle out of a pond of grief from losing Ashley, our beloved Scottie dog of 10 years.
A hard row, if ever there was one.
I chronicled our misery a few columns ago, writing about the difficulty of overcoming the loss, ending with the thought that maybe the right dog just wasn't out there.
"I guess I'm still waiting for an Ashley to look back at me," I told you.
From that column, I got a lot of sympathy and some good advice.
It also finally dawned on me we would have to consider another breed or risk forever expecting a new Scottish terrier to somehow inherit all the personality of the old one.
Unfair to the dog and us.
Still, I couldn't bring myself to really look. Not seriously.
A couple of weeks ago, however, I had a talk with God. One of those talks that brings on lightening bolts in Jim Carey movies.
By the way, these little discussions always happen on my way to work, in case you're wondering about the woman driving with her hands white-knuckled on the wheel, wearing red eyes and muttering to herself ... seemingly.
"God," I said. OK, yelled. "You know we need a dog. We NEED a dog. C'mon already, help this out a little."
Not that day, but not too long after -- soon enough so I couldn't fail to recognize from what direction the inclination came ¬--- I decided to visit the Blue Mountain Humane Society Web site.
Which I do not recommend doing unless you're pretty set on zipping over there and picking up a new family member.
So I see three dogs online that seem like possible heart melters, nag a colleague into playing hooky from work and head right to East George Street.
So like Him to use the moment to teach me the patience I'm too short on. None of the little darlings were in that day ¬--- all three were out on home trials.
I could have cried or cursed, but what I did do was whine a lot at the front counter.
Enough, apparently, that I got an e-mail a few days later.
One little guy was back and would I be interested in seeing him?
Yes, I would, and could the clock move a bit faster, please?
When I bounced into the lobby, the future love of my life was laying on a little flannel blankie and looking adorable.
So we walked, rocked and talked.
I looked into his eyes and he looked into mine.
It wasn't Ashley looking back, but her little doggie brother, Captain Jack.
And truly, I think I heard a satisfied sigh from somewhere above me.
So here we are. Captain Jack, a.k.a. Black Jack and -- in baby talk -- Jack Jack, is loved by all except the oldest cat and she'll come around once she's batted his nose out of her business a few times.
So far, despite the economy, it's a fine Christmas season for the Hagars.
To see a short, and badly shot, video of the newest Hagar, visit: www.ublabs.org/fromthestorageroom and find the "Captain Jack to the rescue" posting. Better video to come, I promise.
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gcj1 wrote on Nov 6, 2008 5:16 PM:
" Congratulations on your new family member. It's so nice to hear I am not alone in the way I feel about my pets. And God Bless You for rescuing one of God's creatures. "
gcj1 wrote on Nov 6, 2008 5:16 PM:
And God Bless You for rescuing one of God's creatures. "