Holiday Reflection 5: Jacques

My first sighting of Jacques

One gift that stands out in my childhood Christmas memories as one of the best ever was the year that Santa brought me Jacques.  He was the cutest, sweetest little poodle and I loved him dearly.  The year was 1965.  We had been to Grandmother and Granddaddy's house for Christmas Eve and were back at home--only a thirty minute drive.  I had seen Santa and the reindeer flying through the sky--and it was NOT a display on someone's roof top no matter WHAT my mother says--and was in quite a rush to get into bed so he could come to our house.  I don't remember whether I had trouble falling asleep or not but I do remember the sound that woke me up in the middle of the night.  It was the whimper of a puppy.  Thinking I was dreaming, I fell back asleep only to awaken, once again, to the same sound.  I did not get excited thinking something like, "I'm getting a puppy for Christmas!"  because my parents had said, "No, not this year."  

Jacques and me

Christmas morning, I was up pretty early and was delighting over all the Santa joys when Dad walked in the living room with another gift.  I didn't realize at first what was going on but, as soon as I did, I felt happy all the way from my head to my toes!  It WAS a puppy!  He was the cutest little ball of black fur and I loved him from the very first moment I saw him. At first, I couldn't decide what to name him.  But my uncle suggested that, since he was a French Poodle, I should call him Jacques.  And I did.

Showing off Jacques

Later in the morning, Dad's sister and her family came over--just as they always did on Christmas morning.  I couldn't wait to show off my new puppy!  Oh, and please check out that totally stylish leather jumper I'm sporting...Good Grief!
 
 We had had other dogs before but Jacques was my very own.  He was my best friend.  We had little games we played and he would do little tricks.  He loved for me to play I'm gonna get ya with him.  I would slide him across the kitchen floor and he would start turning around in mid-slide trying to chase me.  I would run through the house with him running behind barking.  He was like a kid wanting to do this over and over again and again.  Everyone loved him.  He is one reason I wanted a poodle when Hubs and I thought a puppy would be a good idea to help us through our empty nest (see Step One: Get a Puppy).  Tucker is half poodle and he is just as great, if not greater than Jacques was.  My mom even calls our little Tucker, Jacques, all the time and, when she does get his name right she says, "Tuck-uh." She's very southern, my mother. When my brothers and I were growing up we all had different schedules.  One evening, just before dinner, Mother needed to go pick up Brother T from football practice and we all went with her (an opportunity for me to drive, since I had recently acquired my driver's permit, and for brothers C and M to ride along and pretend to have heart attacks because I was in the driver's seat.).  We had just set the table and put the food out but the high school was very close so we just left everything and ran out.  When we came back, we had no ham on the table but we did have a very fat Jacques!  He had gotten on the table and cleaned us out!

People are always wondering what happens to their pets when they pass on.  I'm hoping that they are waiting for us on the other side.  I'll just bet that Jacques is waiting patiently to play with Tucker and share their doggie stories of being spoiled rotten little pooches and for me to play I'm gonna get ya!