Memories

Memories

By Tess Murphy




















         When I was about three or four years old, my father, brother, and I were all in Maine. It had been a long time since our old dog called Doolin had passed away. You must be wondering where my mother was at that time. Well, she was at home, then, she found out that a dog was available.

         A cute flat coat retriever who was probably the best dog that weâd ever have. EVER! The problem was that the breed of dog was prone to cancer. Mom had gone to Connecticut to retrieve the cute puppy, when Dad, Jack, and I came home.

         We arrived in our driveway to see Mom sitting beside a puppy. A puppy that weâd never seen before. âWhoâs that?â Jack asked. Dad smiled and simply said, âLetâs see.â We all ran up to the porch and looked down at the black flat coat retriever. âHer name is Jigs. I went to Connecticut to get her from a breeder,â Mom said. I was very young so I didnât quite know what to say.

         Even though I love Jigsâ name now, back when I was younger and we first got Jigs, I wanted to name her something else. Daisy was the first name I thought of. When I was about six, I started to like Jigsâ name.

         We all love Jigs and Iâm writing this tonight. The night she died. That is a whole different story. Iâll tell you later. First off, well I told you. We discovered Jigs and Mom told us where she was from: Connecticut.

         Since Mom was the first person to be there to adopt her, Jigs liked Mom the best. She would follow my mother around the house and wherever she had to go. She would howl when Mom played the fiddle.

         Jigs is probably the best dog anyone could hope for. First, she was very smart. When she had to go to the bathroom, she would go out into the woods. Second, she was caring. Whenever I was sad, she would come up and lick my face. Or she would put her head on my lap and sit there for a while. Whenever my mom was doing yoga, she would think that she fell and couldnât get up, so she would nose mom up to her feet.
         Third, she was loving. She was so sweet! She always would give us love and we returned the favor. She was always there when we needed her. I wish that she was still here with us. Fourth, she was beautiful. Her long, black hair shined all the time. She had the softest fur and the kindest eyes. Her bark was music to my ears and her howl was even better. I loved how she was just never angry at us.

         Fifth, she was happy. Her tail was almost always wagging. Almost. She stopped wagging it all the time when her cancer got worse. But her soft, brown eyes always had that playful gleam in them. I could go on and on about the characteristic traits about my perfect puppy, but I donât want to bore you.

         When I needed Jigs most, she was always there. ALWAYS! Now she canât be since sheâs gone. I think that I just need to see her one last time. I would give anything in the world to have her back. I think the rest of my family feel like that too. This story is short and thatâs just because I donât remember everything. We just arenât quite done yet.

         I remember, the days when her leg didnât ache and there wasnât the biggest tumor on her leg and there wasnât any pain. She was playful as can be. Dad and I would throw the ball for her and she would run to get it. She was powerful and no one could deny it. Jigs ran very fast and because of that, she grabbed the ball and then she rolled over and over until she stopped and trotted back. Jack threw the ball for her a lot also and that was very nice.

         She was very obedient. In my mind, I can travel back to the days when Jack and I used to play in the snow. She loved the snow and thatâs why winter pains me, because she died in the winter and she loves winter. At least she got her very last gifts from Santa in her stocking. I remember how Jack and I used to tell her where to dig and she would dig. If you said, âStay,â she would stay. If you said, âCome,â or âSit,â she would obey those commands.

         My dog was very funny. I can travel back to when she could jump up and grab snowballs out of the air. Jack and I used to have snowball fights and sometimes, she would join in and she would jump up and try to snatch a cold, white ball of snow out of the air. Jigs was special and everyone has to admit that.

         Enough of the cold, dark days of winter. Now itâs summer. I can see in my mind, my friend Chiara and I were sitting at the table. I had my sandwich at the edge of the table and Jigs jumped, grabbing the top of my sandwich bun. This dog is quite possibly the best thing to come along in the Murphy family.

         Tonight is January 15, 2015 and this is the day Jigs has died. It will be very quiet and lonely without my sweet dog. Today is Thursday and Jigs started to give out this morning. Mom said to say our last âgoodbyeâsâ this morning and we all did. When I came home, I had guitar and I came out to see Jigs sitting down in a pool of her own business. I canât blame her for doing that, she couldnât get up to rush into the deep woods where she usually goes.

I went to Sky Zone (the indoor trampoline park) with my friends. I came back home and Jigs wasnât here. âShe got up!â I exclaimed happily, opening my arms wide. Everyone grew silent. âWell, where is she?â I asked. âSheâs gone,â Mom said sadly. My arms dropped to my sides and my shoulders slumped.

I immediately felt tears well up in my eyes and they fell down. Soon my face was stained in tears and Mom tried to comfort me. Thatâs when I decided to write this little short story about the sweet puppy that I lost. Nothing. No one will ever be able to replace the puppy that is just⦠gone⦠now.

Those are my memories of my dog, my sweet Jigs.