My late boy Jake was also scheduled to be put down within 12 hours when we made the call to adopt him. He traveled for 8-ish hours from NM to CO in a van to get to us… then took the biggest fucking shit on his first walk with us.

We were used to like, medium dogs, and he was an 80-lb pit bull and pointer mix. An immovable object if he wanted to be. An unstoppable force because he just couldn’t help himself.

My husband and I looked at the shit, look at each other… and said “Ok, buckle in.”

9 years later, when Jake turned 13, we said our tearful goodbyes as he wagged his tail and ate his last meal, a bacon cheeseburger.

I love you, Jake. I still think of you.