For the Love of Jax
Gillian counted. Only six days left on the calendar before her move to Seattle. Some days she sang with excitement–a new city, a new job, the beginning of her post-graduation, adult life. Other days, dread crept in. How could she leave her dad, her Jax, and her quirky home in the Mad River Valley?
She would miss her dad’s giant bear hugs and scratchy beard, but she comforted herself that he would visit soon. He’d already purchased tickets for an October flight, and they agreed on Monday nights for a weekly FaceTime.
But her dog, Jax, was almost 12 now — Gillian’s eyes welled up just thinking about leaving Jax and for weeks, she brushed the thought away. The days marched forward and she couldn’t postpone the goodbye any longer. Jax and she needed a proper last adventure, an overnight hike together up to Mount Abe and along the Long Trail to the App Gap. They had hiked the ten miles of rolling ridge line in a single day several times, but this time Gillian wanted to savor it, to take time and enjoy the scenery and the companionship. It would take them longer than it used to, Jax walked slowly now.
Gillian remembered the moment when she found Jax. Her dad said she could get a dog as her nine-year-old birthday present. He said it wouldn’t replace Mom, but that she might enjoy having another girl in the house. So, on a cold, wet spring day, Gillian scrolled through the pictures on the Vermont pet rescue site. Every picture made her happy and sad at the same time. Adorable goofy little terriers, sleek boxers, huge, fuzzy Bernese. Gillian read each bio, watched the videos, googled the mixes to see which ones were friendly, fierce, or fun.
As she scrolled, she kept coming back to an adorable puppy with golden fur and blue eyes. She reread the bio. The pup was the runt of a litter found abandoned in a warehouse, and had been nourished back to health and was ready for adoption. Gillian ran into the garage and held the phone inches from her dad’s nose as he lay under the car, fixing an oil leak. “I found her, Dad! I found Jax.” He rolled on his creeper from under the car and wiped his hands before taking the phone. “Golden retriever, husky, and mutt mix, it says. She’s going to be energetic, that’s for sure. Are you going to walk her every day?”
Gillian nodded up and down until her neck hurt. “Promise. And promise to feed her.”
Her dad scrolled backward to see the other photos. “So many dogs. Why this one?”
“She’s special, I can tell.”
As so she was. From the moment Gillian and her dad picked up the puppy, the two girls were inseparable. Jax slept on the foot of Gillian’s bed and kept her feet warm at night. For Jax’s first birthday, Gillian made them both ice cream sundaes, and they ate them next to each other on the floor until they both laid down with belly aches. When they were outside, Jax defended Gillian against harmless black garter snakes, chattering red squirrels, and once barked herself hoarse against a flock of wild turkeys that wandered into the yard.
As Gillian grew into a teenager, Jax defended her against Deke and his loud motorcycle, positioning her body between Gillian and Deke to prevent their kisses. Eventually, Gillian put Jax in the bathroom and shut the door when they heard Deke’s motorcycle roaring up the driveway. When Deke stopped coming and moved onto another girl, Gillian praised Jax for being a better judge of character than she was.
Each time Gillian returned from college, Jax would be the first to welcome her home, barking eagerly and racing to the door at the rattle of her old Subaru ascending the driveway. Gillian loved burying her face in Jax’s long fur and whispering all her new secrets into Jax’s patient ears. Jax was the best listener.
But Gillian couldn’t take Jax to Seattle to live in a tiny apartment. It wouldn’t be fair to leave her cooped up all day and in a city away where she couldn’t romp free on green grass. Leaving Jax behind was the responsible thing to do. Her dad promised to take good care of her, but Gillian felt a piece of her heart breaking. It wasn’t like college. This time, she would be gone for months. And Jax was getting older.
So, Gillian planned one last hurrah to show Jax her love. She piled all Jax’s favorite items onto the table: granola, homemade muffins, and beef jerky, along with a tent for their night on the ridge, plenty of water, and enough Skittles to eat a handful every mile.
Jax watched her pack, her eyes swinging back and forth between the pile and the backpack. As Gilliam picked up the dog saddlebag, Jax stood up and shook her golden fur, announcing her readiness for the adventure. They clambered into the family pickup truck, all three of them squishing into the cab.
“Now, be careful,” said Dad as he dropped them off at the trailhead. “Jax, take good care of her.”
Jax barked in agreement.
“It’s only two days, Dad,” said Gillian, as she waved him off. “See you at the other end.”
The weather was glorious. Late summer sun, no humidity, and the sun turned the leaves into stained glass, dappling the trail with spots of green, yellow and the occasional patch of red. Gillian stooped to place the dog backpack on Jax and looped her hands around the furry neck for a big hug. “Just like Buddy and Josh?” Jax tilted her head in question. “OK, more like Thelma and Louise, but without the car?” Jax barked in agreement, turned and jogged up the path, stopping to look back at Gillian as she swung her pack into place.
They set off at a comfortable walking pace, Gillian making sure to stop every half hour or so and give Jax some water and let her sit and rest in the shade. Out here on the trail, it was hard to imagine a city life. She spoke aloud about her new job and how nervous she was to work in a big office in a huge city, how she worried about leaving. “You’ll take care of Dad, right Jax?”
Jax looked up at her and Gillian swore she saw a promise in Jax’s smart blue eyes.
It took a few hours at their slow pace, and Gillian had to push Jax up some of the tough rock faces, but they made their halfway goal of five miles before dusk. Gillian set up the tent, and they sat side-by-side to eat their ham and cheddar sandwiches, light mustard on both. One by one, the stars emerged until the clear dark sky glittered with points of light.
Gillian pulled out her phone and scrolled through photos, stopping to show Jax and reminding her of all the stories. Jax dressed up like Peter Pan for Halloween to match Gillian’s Wendy. A video of Gillian throwing snowballs in the front yard for Jax to bite and explode back into snowflakes.
It felt like a lifetime. It was a lifetime. Jax’s lifetime.
“And this one, Jax. Remember this one?” Gillian held up a picture of young Gillian with a small backpack. “When I ran away from home into the woods behind the house and you helped Dad track me down?” Gillian ruffled her fur. “Always keeping me out of trouble, right?” Gillian closed her eyes to dam the flood of fresh tears that threatened. Who was going to keep her out of trouble now?
Settling down in the tent, Gillian wrapped her arms around Jax as tears leaked into her fur. “I’ll miss you, Jax. You are my heart dog forever, you know that, right?”
***
The early morning sun woke them and illuminated their tent world with blue light. They had slept soundly, with Jax lying on the bottom of Gillian’s sleeping bag, keeping her feet warm. Just a few more hours and the adventure would stop. Gillian was quiet, thinking about the end of the trail.
Jax was oddly on edge, running up the trail, stopping, and then turning back, again and again. Gillian finally asked, “What is it, girl? What do you see?” Jax turned sideways in the trail and stopped, forcing Gillian to stop walking or trip over her. The loud crack of branches made Gillian peer ahead into the morning light.
A black bear ambled onto the path 20 feet in front of them. It was big. Bigger and closer than Gillian had ever seen. The bear turned to look at them both. Gillian grabbed Jax’s collar tight. Imperatives screeched through her mind. Get large, make noise, walk slowly backward, look out for cubs and don’t get between them. But she couldn’t move. She couldn’t do anything but stare at the bear and prevent Jax from leaping forward.
“Don’t bark, Jax. It’s OK. Shhh.” She knew of at least two dogs who had been maimed in fights with a bear. Even a claw scuff could be deadly. Not Jax. All the times Jax protected her in the past flashed before her: the snake, the turkeys, Deke. The times she’d cried into Jax’s fur, the times Jax made her laugh, and all their hikes on that very trail. This time, she’d be the one doing the protecting. She used all her weight to hold Jax back.
The forest was quiet. The bear looked at them as the light breeze fluttered the fur on both animals. Finally, the bear snorted as if to dismiss the intruders from her forest, crossed the path, cracked through the underbrush and moved down the hill away from the trail.
Gillian held Jax until the crunching noises stopped, until her heart stopped trying to pound its way out of her chest and her breathing calmed, until the flood of memories stopped flashing, until the birdsong and chattering squirrel revived the forest soundscape. When she finally let go, Jax sprinted forward and sniffed the bear’s location before turning and barking an “all clear.”
Gillian stood up slowly and looked around the woods, the sunlight dappling the path, the birds chirping above them, the whisper of leaves against the light breeze. It had all happened in an instant. A whole life in an instant.
She walked forward and rubbed Jax’s ears, which set her tail wagging. Jax barked her approval and looked directly into Gillian’s eyes. Gillian saw pride, warmth, and love in those eyes. A life of adventures well taken and well enjoyed.
Jax nosed against Gillian’s leg as the girl crouched down and gathered all the yellow fur into her arms and hugged fiercely. “Thanks, old friend. I love you, too, my forever heart dog.”