A Wagging Tale: Missing Jasmine

There are some things I don’t miss about Jasmine.

As she got older, Jasmine went crazy barking at every person who came to the door. She especially went nuts with the UPS people. Like they were going to gobble her up. Crazy to the point where the inside of the solid oak door is pretty badly scraped up as she jumped several feet into the air and onto it. Now we can sand and re-stain it for the last time.

My dad and Ed were the only men she instantly loved and trusted. Everyone else had to prove themselves. Over and over. It was a bit comical. And annoying.

Jasmine was addicted to trash. It didn’t seem to matter where she was when someone walked out of a bathroom, she managed to get in there behind them within 20 seconds and rummage through the trash, looking for all kinds of disgustingly delectable, to her, munchies.

She was pretty protective of her food bowl. Not from us. From other animals. So, beware the innocent cat or dog visitor who didn’t know not to go near her filled bowl.

Her slurpy water drinking led to the need for a utility pan under the dogs’ water bowls. The pan needed to be emptied a few times a week. Now it stays dry with our ‘only dog.’

She let the water from her slurpy drink drip from her mouth across the hardwood floors so they were constantly covered with little water drop marks, beginning within 10 minutes of mopping.

I think that might be all I don’t miss about my Jasmine. But know this: I would happily put up with any of it again, and love her as much as ever. If that were at all possible.

Missing you, Jazzy, with your little whitened face and blue eye.

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