Jerry, Jerry-berry, Jer, Jerbalina, Little angel, Teacup polar bear. At 6 pounds, Jerry was larger than life. We joked that he wasn’t an actual teacup poodle, with the extra pound but that didn’t actually matter as Briar told everyone that “I have a teacup poodle at my house”. Twelve short years of loving my fur-baby was not nearly long enough. I always said that Jerry would live forever, and I think I actually somewhat began to believe that through the years which is why when he was diagnosed with heart problems, I didn’t believe the vet. Jerry was gifted to me by my brother Stephen, back in college when I was having a hard time dealing with depression. I remember thinking that Jerry was a tiny lamb when I saw that first picture of him. He wasn’t just a pet; he was so much more than that. I know that through the years it went from just the two of us, to getting married, having three kids, and adding a golden doodle to the family, but Jerry held his own. There was not a day that Cameron would come home that Jerry wouldn’t be there to bark at him for walking through the door. The kids loved to cart him around in their baby stroller and snuggle up with him under the covers while watching a movie. Jerry didn’t hesitate to bite the kids when he was needing a break, and yet they still loved him. I miss the little things that I didn’t stop to think about, until now. Always having a shadow behind me wherever I would go, which oftentimes resulted in him getting closed into a closet or room if he was not quick enough, to which he would bark until I came back and let him out. His excitement to see me when I would come through the door, even if I had just been gone a minute. The constant biting of the vacuum or broom whenever I would clean house. His ability to nap anywhere as long as he was next to me. His little, tiny feet and how they made a tapping sound when he was running through the house at night to find me. The way he stood up with his paws on the steering wheel whenever he was in the car with us. The way he refused to eat deer meat until I put some steak sauce on it. How he loved when I would hair blow dry him after getting a bath. The way he snuggled up inside my jacket when it was cold outside. I could go on forever, but I won’t. I take comfort knowing that Jerry is running around in heaven with his brother, Paris and that they are both healthy and no longer in pain. I imagine that he is sitting by the pearly gates, on a fluffy cloud, and barking at everyone. Jerry, there will never be another dog like you. I can’t wait to kiss you on your little black olive nose when I see you up in heaven. I love you forever and always.
