Jake

October 11, 1994 - Feburary 5, 2006

R.I.P.

2006.02.05

Jake, my German Shepherd Dog passed away today. I came home after the Sunday yacht race to feed him and our other dog, before going out for a Superbowl party. I let them out in the backyard and played with them for a while. I came into the house and a moment later I heard a noise like a struggle on the back porch. I went out to see what was happening, and Jake was having convulsions. They only lasted a minute, and then he settled into the trance-like state that follows a seizure. I called an after-hours vet and while I was talking to them, Jake seemed to come around for moment. I stroked his head and talked to him, and then he died.

I got Jake from a private breeder in Washoe Valley, Nevada in 1994. It was my first wife who wanted a German Shepherd Dog. After meeting the breeder and seeing the puppies, we selected Jake. He wasn't the biggest of the litter, but he seemed the most alert. Two weeks later I brought him home. He measured about eighteen inches from nose to tail and he was still rolly-polly with puppy fur. His eyes were blue. When we took him out to the parks people would ask us what kind of dog he was because black German Shepherds were uncommon. Some people mistook him for a wolf, and one helpful gentleman insisted I had bought a Belgian Shepherd, even after I mentioned I had his AKC papers and his lineage was nothing but German Shepherd dogs.

Jake grew tall quickly and filled out as he got older. In his prime, he weighed 105 pounds and could run for what seemed like forever. The desert was not far from where I lived in Sparks, Nevada, and after a long day at work Jake and I would drive out into the sagebrush-covered hills to the east and get our exercise. He was a great rabbit-chaser. Many times he would flush a jack rabbit and I would watch him disappear over a hill, only to return ten minutes later, ready for the next pursuit. Like me, Jake loved the high desert and all the room in the world to roam it afforded us.

German Shepherd Dogs are known for their intelligence and their protective nature. Jake had an abundance of both. He loved to practice tracking. He had a great ball-drive and I know he would have made a great working dog for the police or military. Occasionaly while out for walks on the Air Force bases we lived on a Security Forces patrol would stop and Jake would run over to the car to stand up on the driver's door as if to say to the policeman "Here I am, let's go catch some bad guys." He never did that to any other car but police cars. My father-in-law used to handle police-dogs and it was obvious Jake had a special liking for him. When I left for a year-tour in Korea, I knew my wife would be safe with Jake in the house. He was a big black dog with big teeth and a very deep and loud bark and he scared the heck out of people who didn't know him. Once a door-to-door salesman rang our doorbell, and when I answered the door holding Jake by the collar, he took several steps back. He was selling home alarm systems. I said, "Do you really think I need one?" He responded, "No sir." and said goodbye.

When we moved to Florida a few years ago, I was dissapointed there was nowhere to Jake and let him run. The Gulf beaches here are off-limits to dogs, and the woods are thick, swampy, and full of ticks. I walked Jake and Tilda at the county fairgrounds, where, if no one else was walking their dogs, I could let him off leash to stretch out. As he got older he slowed down, but he still showed the same enthusiasm for getting into my old Toyota 4-Runner as if he was still a yearling excited to go for a drive. I took him and Tilda for their walk this morning. There was no one around, so I let them off their leashes to check the mail and leave messages for the other dogs who walk the fairgrounds. He was happy and so was I.

Jake and I had many adventures together, too many to tell about here and now, but I want to tell you that he was a great companion through some difficult times. He was, unlike ourselves, always faithful and brave and loving and I'm going to miss him very much.

Jake after a jack rabbit

California, USA, 1995

Go get 'em Jake!