Rescue Dog #1 - Jazzmine

Due to the pain caused by the sudden lost of Buffy, my wife felt she could never have another dog, as no dog would ever be as good. I figured given time, it would happen, so I didn't push her too much.

Then some months later, my wife and her friend went to the beach for a short holiday with the their two daughters. One day they found a big stray dog and decided to take it to the local council pound before it got run over, or injured. The two girls were looking at all the dogs in the cages, then our daughter stated that she liked the dog in cage number 8. The pound attendant explained that this was not the cage number, it was how long the dog had to live if it wasn't collected, or a new home was found for it. This really upset our daughter, so she started nagging my wife to keep it, saying "it's just a puppy, you can't let it die, can't we have it, I will feed and look after it, please, please, please".

Well the nagging became too much for her, so she rang me at home to see what I thought. Knowing how she had been feeling about Buffy, I said "well I would really like another dog, but it's up to you and how you feel about it". After much discussion, she decided if it was still there on the last day we would take her, but it would be our daughters dog, not ours and her responsibility to look after it. Our daughter couldn't wait for the days to pass and when they went back on the last day, the dog was still there, so my wife told the attendant that we would take her, thinking she would just have to sign some papers and take her there and then.

Having never got a dog from the pound before we were not aware of the long winded process required. Before she could be taken home, a whole heap of papers had to be signed, she had to be sent to local vet to be checked out and spayed and we had to agree to pay the expenses and pick her up the following weekend, therefore my wife rang me again to make sure it was OK, to which I agreed.

When we got her home she was riddled with flees, so we gave her a wash, brushed her coat and treated her with a anti-flee treatment. She was a real friendly pup, somewhere between 8-12 months old, with a Chihauhau head and mixed breed body, which our daughter named Jazzmin, that often got shortened to Jazzy. She had such a gentle nature, easy to train and happy to please, we don't know why anybody would give her up, but she was scared of a newspaper,  or magazine in your hand. I suspect she was hit with one at some stage of her early life.

Our daughter started off really well feeding her and looking after her, but the novelty soon wore off and it was back to us to do all the work, however by then she was already in our hearts. In all the 15 years we had her she never gave us an ounce of trouble, she would mother all the other dogs we had along the way, helped Pippy with her pups and taught the new dogs how to behave. The only two issues we had was that she became a compulsive licker, so bad that her tongue would no longer fit back in her head and she was a bit of a guts. We had to feed all dogs together and wait until they finished eating otherwise as soon as we left she would steal the others food, or sometimes she was so smart she would pretend not to want to eat, so the others wouldn't eat either then steal theirs.

We will always remember her with fond memories and the knowledge that she showed us that we could love other dogs, just as much as Buffy and enjoy the company of many more. RIP Jazzy.



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