November 23, 2003 – October 30, 2020

At 3:45 pm on October 30, 2020, Jack crossed the Rainbow Bridge to begin his next steps in his journey – to become a guardian angel to us, his family, and those he loves. He took his steps into that next world peacefully, without pain, and surrounded by those whose lives he made whole and who love him so much. Jack was a fighter to the end, and he fought all the tough battles with bravery, loyalty, and most importantly, love.

A lover of food, Lambys, walks, dog parks, naps, squirrels, rabbits, geese, all the car rides, friends, and his family, Jack lived life to the fullest. He has never left our side and went above and beyond to comfort you when you needed comforting. He made us laugh, brought so much joy to our lives, and taught us so many things about life and love. It was like he was created for us. He completed our little family; his purpose in life was to be OUR mini. He will always hold a huge place in our hearts, and we will never forget him.

Last Friday, I took Jack in for another follow-up. It was the earliest appointment we could get as we knew his health was not really progressing. We had some good days in between but overall; we knew the outcome of the follow-up would not be great news. I, however, was not expecting to hear how quickly he had deteriorated and we were now facing a quality of life matter (a matter we repeatedly had asked in the past that they be honest with us about, and they were…much love to those veterinarians whose jobs have to be so hard sometimes). We had to make that painful decision that we knew was coming, but there is no way for one to prepare themselves for how much it will hurt. We were so lucky to have some extra time with him at home after his initial hospital stay, and we were so fortunate to spend time with him with his last moments with us. As I said before, he went peacefully, in my arms, and surrounded by those of us who love and cared for him throughout his life. I know he is no longer in pain.

Mornings and nights are really difficult. It’s odd to readjust to a schedule where we are not working with a myriad of medications and fluids, or constantly checking my phone in fear of missing a call from the vet, and not laying directly with him for as many snuggles and eye hugs that we could get with the time we had left. I miss the clickety-clack sound of his nails on the hardwood; his walk gave a really unique rhythm. I miss those big, expressive eyes, his little bark, his frito feet, petting him, talking to him, seeing him curled up on the bath mat outside of the shower where he’d wait for me, and having him follow me everywhere. Going on walks, dog parks, and even out to our own backyard is hard – getting him a yard was the reason we bought this house. Every corner of the house reminds us of him. It hurts. It really hurts, but we know we are lucky to have had him for all of those years, and despite the heartbreak, I wouldn’t change a thing.

Our love story with our little guy included the good, the great, and the sad. It is a testament to Jack’s courage and love. Jack battled against his recent health issues for over a year. This pain is worth all of those wonderful years we had with Jack. We fought as hard as we could. Jack fought the impossible; I believe he fought to stay as long as he could. I just wish I was able to protect him from time, and if love could have saved him, he would have lived forever.

We are devastated and heartbroken, but we know we were the ones lucky enough to be loved by a Mini Schnauzer named Jack. (That’s what I would always say to him – how did Mama get so lucky to have/be loved by a mini like Jack Wrigley? And then he’d push his head into my chest – his version of a hug – and he’d give me a stubby tail wag. )

To our Jack: we will see you on the other side, our dear, sweet, precious little boy. You are such a good boy; you are the bestest boy ever, Jack ~ Mama loves you.