About a year ago, I helped my friend Jet move on.  It was difficult to do, and it took me a long time to forgive myself for putting him to sleep.  But eventually I realized I only did for him what I’d want a good friend do for me:  end the suffering.

For more than 12 years Jet worked and played with our family.  He hung out with us here at home, joined us camping and working in DogWood, the Adirondacks, New England, and on long road trips beyond the Mississippi.  Swim, snuggle, hike, or romp in the snow – he was always ready.
He had many wonderful qualities:  he only barked when something was wrong.  If he barked in the night you would get out of bed and find out what was wrong.  He chased off burglars, tree vandals, and cats.  He had every fine feature lab owners rave about:  he was gentle, smart, and full of fun.
Like any member of the family, he had his quirks.  Shadows and shapes that looked like people or animals drove him into a frenzy.  He hated statues, human-sized Halloween decorations, and silhouettes!

If we measure our lives in moments, decisions, and delays, then we also take stock of what is around us by means of comparison:  we size things up.  In my many  journeys into the forest and field, Jet helped me document how big, how new, and how interesting things were, but also where and when I was at the time.  He helped me mark time and place.  I used Jet for scale.

Jet helping me gather acorns from Willard Chapel’s Bur oak.

Puppy Sandwich! Here’s my nephew John sleeping with Jet and Doc – safe and warm.

Jet’s little sister, Doc, and Cynthia with Cayuga County’s Champion American Sycamore in Moravia.

Jet and Doc hanging out at Cranford Camp in the Adirondacks.