Jubes Departs ...

It’s been a month but this past weekend I finally shook the worst of a big weight that was on my heart. I feel like I cheated to get rid of it. The cheat has alleviated most of my sadness but hasn’t made a dent in my guilt … I’ll take that. And the cheat is a story for another day.

About a month before our move to Arizona Jubes (aka Sir Judas Bacon) started exhibiting some mild dog-on-dog aggression. It’s not a big deal really. It’s a common and fixable problem especially prevalent in male dogs as they mature. It’s fixable with additional socialization with other dogs, neutering and consistent leadership. It’s a phase of Jubes’ development we’ve been anticipating, studying up for and preparing to deal with since he was just a tiny, beige, comma in the bottom of a box.

It all came down to timing and, let’s just say, the timing was less than optimal. Jubes’ dog-on-dog aggression reached its apex the week we were moving. It seems the move intensified it … 15 hours in the back of an SUV, three different hotels, too many stops in too many unfamiliar places with too many strangers … or just too much new input and stimulation in too short a span of time … or too much he felt he needed to defend. I guess we’ll never really know. However, it came about, while we between houses, our playful and good-natured Jubes became impossible to walk in public without him acting like a slobbering menace every time he spotted another dog. Sigh. Problematic in a major way because what the public easily tolerates from a little dog, it has zero tolerance for from a bigger dog and gets down right indignant about from a bully breed. I get it. I used to be one of those people.


We did what we could. We muzzled him. We walked him late in the evenings or super early in the mornings. We walked him in the most unpopulated routes and places we could find and did our utmost not to have him come into contact with other dogs figuring that, once we were settled in the new place, things would calm down and we’d get to work on this challenge …. well, we never got the chance.

We’d only been in our new place two days when, out for an early morning walk with Chris, Jubes put on a snarling, frothing at the mouth exhibition for an older woman who out walking her Scottie through our complex. In an evil twist of fate, she turned out to be the corporate manager of our 360+ unit complex. It took only 180 seconds for her to turn to Chris and say “it would really be a shame if after only 2 days here you have to move out”.

Red Alert!

After much discussion, soul-searching and a large dose of reality delivered by their wallets, Chris and Linz decided they couldn’t move out right now so they put Jubes’ photos and info on Craigslist. Seriously, I figured Craigslist was a long shot so I was caught off guard when they were called right away by a family interested in taking Jubes. Long story short, Jubes has gone to a new forever family thanks to Craigslist. The kids feel they couldn’t ask for a better adoptive pack -- Mom, Dad, a school-age boy and girl, a big back yard and a 1-year old Australian Shepherd for a friend. They believe that as adoptive families go, this one is top drawer. I sure hope so. I love that stupid little dog. I’ve always been ready for him to move away with the kids but I was not prepared never to see him again. Of course, I’m relieved that the immediate landlord problem is solved and of course, I applaud Chris and Lindsey’s decision and I’m glad for them because it does solve the problems presented by Chris’ snap decision in the parking lot of Safeway last August. Like what they will do with Jubes while they’re both working full time and living in their own apartment with no yard. But their choice is a regret we’ll all carry. Oh well, if only our kids would learn from our mistakes and experiences and listen to our advice in the first place these heartwrenching choices would never have to be made ….. annnnyyyyyway.

Were it not for Jubes “close encounter of the landlady kind” I would have kept him if the kids couldn’t take him when they moved out. That was always my contingency plan. And, despite Jubes’ close encounter, I would have kept him and challenged the landlady if his only option was a pound. After all, Jubes was a pre-approved, rent-paying, tenant on the lease. It’s a battle I would have waged and likely won, but it didn’t come to that. Instead, Jubes has a new family who want and understand him and who know as much about his tricks and talents as the kids could jam into the 30 minute “interview” time they all had together. The only thing that makes this at all palatable for me is that the new family has the kids address and phone number and has agreed that, should things not work out with Jubes, he be returned to the kids. That agreement reasonably assures Jubes won’t go to a pound, end up in a dog-fighting pit, a research facility or a can of dog food. Even so, I worry. Although the kids miss Jubes they are ultra comfortable with their decision. I guess one day I’ll get there too. One day when there’s no shows like “Animal Cops” finding live pitbulls beaten nearly to death, hog-tied and stuffed into lidded garbage cans to die. No news reports of pit bulls tied to trees, doused with lighter fluid and set on fire. Someday?

I’m thankful for the time with Jubes. I guess he crossed my path as another “see I told you so” lesson in response to another of my “I would never ______ (fill in the blank)” statements. Jubes revealed to me abilities I never knew I had, but more importantly, he taught me a lot about how to live tolerance instead of just talking tolerance like so many other people do.

I’m infinitely grateful that another family saw in him what we see. That he’s a smart, loving little guy and a joy to have around. It’s my most sincere hope that Jubes live a long and happy life … I just wish I could be there to watch.

And I wish I lived in a world without ignorance. A world where thinking adults understood that people with foreign accents aren’t necessarily stupid, black people really can float and there’s no such thing as an aggressive breed.

Whoever coined the phrase “ignorance is bliss” was an idiot.

Ignorance has a painful price tag.

.