Rest In Peace, Little Friend

Jessie lived to the venerable, old age of 15. She was the best family dog you could ever wish for: tolerant, energetic, quirky, brave, cozy, funny, hungry, stubborn, playful, loving, and loyal.

Born on a farm in Denmark around the time of Hurricane Andrew (1992). We plucked her from a litter of several other mutts. The mother was a long-haired dachshund and, we believe, her father was a Jack Russell. I picked her because she had a white stripe on her chest and because she was the liveliest one. A sure sign that she had a big personality. I wasn't wrong about that. We flew her back to the US, at first in a duffel bag my sister and I held in our lap during the flight. And then in a carrier after we landed in New York and they would not allow us to board with the duffel bag. When we put her in the carrier, she barked a high pitch puppy bark continuously until we could take her out and hold her in our laps again.

Our German Shepherd, Prince, took her in immediately. He watched over her and tended to her. At least until she got old enough to show that she was the boss. They were quite a pair. She outlived him by about 3 years.

She lived a full life (as full as any family pet can). Kept us entertained. Comforted us when we felt low. She loved to take a nap, nestled alongside you. She had an insatiable desire to swim in the pool. She was really good at begging for table scraps. She loved peanut butter.

We love you, Jessie.