Nothing but Heart

This month we made the hard decision to say goodbye to our loving lab, Jasper. He was one of a kind. He retrieved hundreds of birds, partook of one picnic lunch, patrolled the Beartooth backcountry, could play fetch for hours, destroyed multiple kennel latches, enjoyed brisk interval walks, and broke his tail on three separate occasions. One of Courtney’s friends shared affectionately “that dog – he’s all heart.”

Twelve years ago Courtney and I were struggling through one of the hardest seasons of our lives. Josh had been diagnosed with Menkes Disease over a year earlier which included a prognosis of a life expectancy of less than two years. I took a leave of absence and will forever be thankful for the days I was able to spend at home with Josh. One fall day, Courtney and his coworker Paul, were patrolling the Stillwater River listening to 90s hip hop when Courtney thought he spotted a lab puppy in a field miles from the nearest farm. Paul commented “well, he’s coyote bait now.” My favorite part of the story is a few moments later, they turned around, drove back to the spot, whistled into the field, and out burst a very friendly and overly excited black lab puppy. The rest of the story is history and Jasper Joe became a loved member of the Tyree family.

Jasper came into our lives at a time when Courtney and I were unable to process, unable to figure out exactly what it was that we needed in our lives, and truly were surviving moment to moment. Even to say day to day feels like a stretch. We were sad, we were angry, and we were heartbroken. I remember laying on the hallway floor intentionally stretched between Josh in his swing and Jasper on the living room floor as Hoyt slept in the sunshine by the front window. I was seemingly unaware of the oxygen cords and puppy toys equally sprawled across the floor as boy and dogs slumbered, yet, was pressingly aware of the need to be able to reach Josh first should the puppy wake first and want to share his puppy kisses. When Josh was diagnosed in the fall of 2011, we were encouraged to start a Caring Bridge site. The site provided us a platform to share updates and photos. Now, printed as a book as the site has been archived, it serves as a memory book of our day to day. Reading each entry brings me back to the moment captured in the timestamped snapshot as well as the heartbreak that was being written between each line.

I remember being worried to tell our parents that we had adopted a dog. We were worried they would tell us it was a crazy idea – but our parents knew Jasper was exactly what we needed. Jasper, like so many things in life, was a gift. Last week was Josh‘s angel day. On the day Josh died, Courtney and I had taken turns holding him in our arms all day. Hoyt and Jasper were with us inside as it was a frigid December. As the day darkened into evening and Josh’s breaths per minute increased, we knew he couldn’t maintain much longer so we placed the dogs in their kennels next to us in the living room. At one point, Jasper whimpered so I got up to check on him. When I returned to the couch, Court whispered through tears “he’s gone.” Although I didn’t understand it in the moment, I now believe Jasper had given me a gift through his distraction.

For the next decade, Jasper and Hoyt became our focus. Traveling with us on many adventures and being a constant source of unconditional love and joy in a grieving home. In 2017, when Emma joined our family the dogs again became our secondary focus but were nevertheless a constant. I once read “to us a pet is a chapter, but to them we are a book.” Those of us who have known the love of a dog, we are fortunate. It is a love that is all heart.