Friday, January 27, 2012

To Jasmine Graves

Mostly blind and deaf in her later years, she could still find my mom in a crowd of people.
I've had a rough week.  One of my family members, an 18 year old Cockapoo-dachshund named Jasmine was put to rest.  I liked to joke that she had already lived longer than she deserved, as a cat fanatic she and I didn't always see eye to eye, but in her later years she was nothing but sweet to me.

I love pet names and finding out how they were chosen.  Her name was a bit oddly done.  My mom picked it and if you do the math and know your Disney history well then you might remember that she was named not long after the movie Aladdin came out.  My sister and I thought that was how mom had thought of it.  But my family is quite unique.  My parents own a music shop and they have always sold extra items like incense and tiny bottles of oil in many different scents.  That is where my mom got the name.  She liked the scent of the perfume and thought that the name sounded pretty.

As a pup I think you'd have to call Jasmine a fire cracker.  She was tiny, fiesty, and filled with the need to run all over our house.  She had her quiet moments too and was a huge comfort to sick people.  In my family you knew if you were really ill because Jasmine would cuddle up next to you and loyally stay put through coughs, sneezes and everything else.  You also knew when you were getting better because she would jump ship and become my mom's shadow again.

We took her on trips with us whenever we left the house.  She was great to my extended family and when we all got together at the cabins she would adopt them all and happily greet those who came to our door.  It was only outsiders who got the occasional growl.

The only time that she didn't live with us was for about a week or two 11 years ago when she dug her way out of the yard hoping to follow us one day.  She was picked up and taken away when she was found on the street.  Our family went nearly mad with worry, I think my mom did go crazy for a little while.  The only reason we got her back is that someone mentioned that our lost dog posters should show a reward in case she was being held for money.  That afternoon we finally got the call and that person certainly was in it for the $50.  I still think of those people as dog-nappers and as evil as Cruella DeVille.

It is hard to imagine my parents house without her.  She will be missed but she will also be remembered.  Goodbye Jazzy!


  1. Oh no! So sorry to hear this. :^(
    18 years old is a good, long life for a dog.

  2. Your blog brings back lots of great memories of your family and Jazzy at the cabins. What a great dog. And she lived a long, long time.

  3. Yes she really squeezed out every one of those 'golden' years that she could get her paws on! My parents must be blessed (or cursed) with long lasting pets because their cat Riley lived even longer than Jazzy and made it to 19! Thanks for the support everyone!

  4. It's amazing how pets can sense illness and emotions with an almost psychic ability. What a great story. My first pet was Frisky, he was half beagle, half terrier, and I got him as a puppy. He whined and cried all night the first few nights at our house and my parents were wondering if they made a good decision. I remember sleeping next to him on the kitchen floor where his box and bed were so he would calm down.

    Sadly, my parting with frisky was not after a long and well-lived life. He just disappeared one day. We did all the posters and told the police and put ads in the paper. No frisky. My dad always said someone had to have taken him. I cried for a month after that and still really haven't gotten over it. I still say prayers hoping he at least went to people that loved him and needed him for some reason and that they took care of him. *sniff*

    Ok, I'm better now. Thanks for the memory Lindsay.

  5. Oh Randy I'm so sorry! I do think that the not knowing is the worst part. I've been very lucky with the pets in my life. Three have passed but none have ever just vanished like that, except for those weeks with Jasmine. I hope that Frisky did end up living a long and happy life even if it couldn't be with such as caring owner as you would have been.

    There is something so strange about loosing a pet. Some people understand the heartache of a loved one dying while others see pets as little more than a coffee maker or tv that busted. Thank you for sharing your story!

  6. I thought you would appreciate it. I did get some really good years with Frisky though. One time my dad, brother, and myself were snowmobiling. Artic Cat had a miniature snowmobile called the kitty kat we were fortunate enough to own. There was a great big field between our house and the neighbors just perfect for tearing around in a snowmobile.

    It was my brother's turn to drive and he had ridden almost the whole way to the neighbors when the motor died. He couldn't get it started so he began to walk back to us at the house. The neighbor's dog came out to play. I can't remember what kind of dog other than it was as big as my little brother. He was just playing and jumped on him and knocked him down.

    My little brother was in a puffed up snowsuit so he just got back to his feet and and started walking again. Little Frisky went into full-on attack dog mode. I'd never seen anything like it. He tore after that big dog and had him by throat. He had to jump up in the air just to get there and he's hanging by the big guy's throat.

    Big guy was more in shock than anything else as Frisky was too small to do much damage, but he realized quite quickly that Big guy was no longer welcome in the field and went yelping back home. Little Frisky stayed by my brother's side all the way back to us and received the heroe's welcome he so richly deserved!