As a puppy, Jinx let out her first deep “Boo-woo” bark as a heavy rain hit the roof. So funny was this, watching her tilt her head at the ceiling to determine if that gush of water was friend or foe. She jumped up on sofa, looked out the window, and then came another, “Boo-woo, Boo-woo, Boo-woo.” The rain was an intruder and she needed to alert us!
This feisty Norwegian Elkhound girl, officially known as Ch. Elvemel For Your Eyes Only, CGC, has traveled far and wide with me. We’ve been to dogs shows in Colorado, Kansas and Wisconsin. We’ve done media events in Manhattan that has landed us together in the pages of Sports Illustrated and New York Dog magazine. We’ve attended AKC Responsible Dog Ownership Day events from New York City to Raleigh, North Carolina, the latter to earn her Canine Good Citizen title at 9-years-old. She became a champion show dog and appeared live from Times Square on a pet dental health month media tour while a vet brushed her teeth for major TV markets all before she was 2-years-old. And she made her last show appearance of the famed Morris & Essex Kennel Club in October.
She made friends of her own like Leyna, the Manhattan-based smooth miniature dachshund. Besides doing the Sports Illustrated photo shoot together, these two hounds traversed tri-state dog shows in search of championship points. Jinx even broke the mixed-breed barrier making lifelong friends with Flirt, an adorable blonde labradoodle from Westchester County. Jinx would attend parties and sleepovers with Flirt, playing in her owner’s “enchanted garden,” as we called it.
And Flirt came to visit Jinx in Newtown, as her owner Renee Richmond, came to help build a garden of Jinx’s own.
By 3-years-old, Jinx became a mother, giving birth to two lovely puppies, Linx & Minx. Minx went on to a wonderful home to become Elvemel All That Jazz. Linx, a.k.a. Ch. Elvemel Casino Royale, CGC, stayed with us. Just last week, he won an award of merit at the Norwegian Elkhound Association of America National Specialty dog show at 9 years old, doing his mommy proud.
Wait ’til I Get Home
But before leaving for the national specialty three weeks ago, I had a conversation with Jinx. I asked her, “Please, wait until I get home.” She knew what I meant. I kissed her before loading Adele and Linx into the van for our 10-day trip.
She was in good hands with my husband Ray and still able to walk and manage herself. Then a week into my trip, Ray texted me to call him. Jinx had taken a turn and needed help walking and doing her potty business. I had Ray take her to the emergency hospital and put me on speaker phone with the vet. We all determined that she was not in a critical situation and she left the hospital with new medication.
Three days later on a Monday night, I was home, and reunited with Jinx. I immediately tended to her care, bathing, clipping and making her as comfortable as possible as she was incontinent now. The next morning I set out to Petco and bought her diapers (a first for me) to keep her dry. For the next 24 hours I stayed by her side and watched her mostly sleep and struggle to stand up. Tuesday night was rough. By Wednesday morning she refused breakfast. She could not stand up on all fours anymore. I held her up in order for her to eat breakfast to get her medication into her. Her decline had been swift. As she laid in the backyard, I came into the house and Ray and I watched her sleep.
“Jinx is not doing well,” I said. I took a deep breath and whispered, “It’s time.” Then I burst into tears, sobbing heavily into Ray’s shoulder. I called her vet and scheduled a home visit.
The rest of the day Jinx and I spent time together among the backyard gardens she loved to rummage through. Several times I would look over at her call her name and tell her, “We Love You, Jinx.” Although she had lost the use of her tail, the tip of that once-tightly curled tail wagged ever so slightly.
All throughout the day as Jinx dozed on the grass, Mr. Cardinal, with his bright red plumage, flew around the property, with at least a dozen sightings. Jinx’s last journey across the yard was to my side as I sat in the lawn chair. I stroked her grey grizzled head and looked deeply into her dark brown eyes. She spoke to me silently and said, “It’s time.”
Jinx spent the few remaining hours of her life sleeping among her gardens. However, true to her stoic old bitch fashion, as soon as her vet, Dr. Fran Paulin, walked into the back yard, Jinx had to alert us to the intruder. “Boo-woo, Boo-woo, Boo-woo” she barked. Her last bark eerily echoing that first puppy bark that made us laugh so long ago.
Jinx slipped away peacefully with respect and honor (thank you Dr. Paulin and Sarah). Ray lovingly prepared a grave for Jinx near Roxanne, her great-great-grandmother, and Burt, our first champion. We brought her old pack mates, those Elvemel champions who had passed before her — Bruno, Basia and Obie — and placed their ashes with her. We covered them all with earth and roses. We then drank champagne to celebrate their wonderful lives and all the unconditional love they had given us over the decades. We are truly blessed to share our lives with this wonderful breed.
The next morning, as I stepped outside, a sadness came over me as I missed Jinx rummaging through the garden. Then, I looked into the backyard and spotted Mr. Cardinal sitting on a rock overlooking the Elvemel ancestral burial grounds. A smile of happy Jinx memories came over me as he flew away and disappeared into the clouds leading to the rainbow bridge.