When I was in the 4th grade, I made the decision that all young people make at some point, I needed a dog. I begged my parents, made promises that I knew I wouldn't keep (about walking, feeding, cleaning up poop, etc.). Eventually my parents gave in and agreed to take me to the Humane Society. When we got there, we saw many dogs--both cute and mangy. There was an adorable pair of black lab puppies that were supposed to be kept together. My dad said we couldn't get two black lab puppies. It would be too much food, too much work. In fact, we weren't looking for a big dog at all. We needed to get a small dog. It wouldn't need very much food or exercise. And after looking around the place a little more, we found . . . Jasmine.
She was a little mop of a dog. Long, black, curly hair. When we walked by her pen, she was jumping, jumping on the wire door. We took her out to the yard, and she ran around playfully. We may have played catch. . . I don't exactly recall.
I wasn't leaving with two black lab puppies, but this cute Ewok-dog seemed nice enough. I named her Jasmine, after the Disney Princess, of course! Maybe it's because she had black hair.
And Jasmine was my parent's dog ever since! Really, after all those promises, as soon as I realized how nutty she was, I didn't want to take any responsibility.
She was always very protective of my father and me. I think she realized that we were the ones who "saved" her. She would bark when anyone came to the door. My dad would take her to do errands, and whenever anyone walked by the car, she would pop up to the window, snarl and
bark. She had an irrational fear of doorbells and that sound a La-z-boy makes when it's put up or down. She seemed to especially hate men in bermuda shorts.
This picture of Jasmine with the really short hair reminds me of the thing I did most with her. She would have her little front paws out in front of her, and I would touch them, which she hated! She would jump up, bark, and move away. But very soon, she'd be sitting in the exact position, and I would touch her paws again. It was kind of a game, but I can count on one hand how many times she actually had fun playing this game.
The short hair picture also reminds me of the silly haircuts she used to get. She was a poodle terrier. She had curly hair, but her tail was long (never cut-off). The lady my dad took her to to
get groomed (which my dad either called "pruned" or "tutored"), would cut her body hair really short but leave the hair on her tail and ears really long. She would then get all sorts of stickers in her hair . . . which led to more than one foxtail in the ear! So sometimes I would cut her ear hair myself. I'm not sure whose handiwork is responsible for the above picture, but it's adorable! (;
For the last few years, Jasmine's health has been deteriorating. She never had the best teeth, and she ended up with very few. She started loosing her hearing, so the dog that used to bark at everything now couldn't hear anything to bark at. My dad was putting pumpkin and yogurt in her food to help her digestion. She also had a large cancerous tumor on her belly. Believe me, I'm sparing you the gnarly details!
So on the 14th of November, after Jasmine fell off my parents' bed and struggled much more than usual to get up (yes, she'd fallen off the bed before), they took her to the vet and had her put to sleep. I think it was the best choice because she
wasn't in terrible pain yet, but it was clear the end was near, and they spared her any real pain
at the end.
Good-bye Jasmine, you will be remembered . . . I have yet to decide if you will be missed. (;
R.I.P.
Jasmine Asdel
c. 1991-2008
