In early December of 2004 I found Jake on petfinder.com, and I knew the instant I saw his six-week-old puppy picture that we were meant to be.

I called the rescue organization that had him and inquired about what I would need to do to meet him, and on the next available adoption day I went. In the interim I completed a four-page application that required several references – among other things.

Jake and two other male puppies from the litter had been found abandoned in a ditch when they were just a few weeks old. Fortunately the person who found them placed them with a rescue group where they were fostered, given veterinary and other care, and placed up for adoption.

Holding him in my arms, feeling all that soft fluffy puppy fuzz and his sweet puppy breath on my neck while he looked so adoringly at me with his big, brown, soulful eyes gave me the final confirmation (as if I needed it) that he was meant to go home with me.

He was a VERY well-behaved puppy. Very trainable…he aimed to please. You could see how proud he was when he received praise and understood commands. He was potty-trained in 12 hours. Not kidding. The first day I had him I took him outside once every hour and praised the heck out of him after he went. Loads of treats…jackpot! He would just trot right back inside…head and tail held high…ready to snuggle back up with me. That first night he slept straight through the night with me and without so much as a tiny accident.

He had two nicknames early on: Hoover and Houdini. Houdini because he could climb any baby/dog gate (and eventually he just jumped over), and he could get out of his locked crate within seconds. Any crate! I tried several different kinds. I started calling him Hoover because he inhaled his food. I don’t think I ever once heard him actually chew a piece of food until he was about two years old, and he finally learned to slow it down a bit.

He’d started to show signs of being timid very early on. I remember even those first few days, when I’d take him outside in the yard, instantly his tail would go straight down, and he would just kind of freeze in place…staring at me as if to say, “get me out of here!”

Anything new…he didn’t like. One day he sat his tiny little puppy butt on the kitchen floor and barked like mad at my new coffee maker. If it was something new, or different, or loud and startling…he didn’t like it. He would bark at big loud trucks…and oh! It made them go away. Unfortunately he started to learn that it worked with strangers too. As he got older, the louder he barked, the more he lunged and snapped…they stayed away from him.

It kept him “safe.”

Fear aggression is, in my experience, very difficult to mitigate, because in the dog’s mind, it works. Jake’s trainer said one day what I’d long thought, “Jake’s motto is ‘the best defense is a good offense.’”

He was my velcro dog. If he could have physically attached himself permanently to me I think he would have. I used to say that if he could crawl up inside me, he would!

Nothing made Jake happier than to snuggle up with me and a blanket and hang out for hours on end.

In hindsight I realize that I was the only person he ever felt truly safe with; that he ever TRULY trusted. For nearly seven years I did everything I could to socialize him; to help him get more comfortable and feel confident in the world. I worked with his veterinarian, behaviorists, trainers…we tried medications…we tried so many things. I feel like we tried it all.

I picked this house – on a huge lot, privacy fenced, with a doggie door so he could go in and out as he pleased – for Jake. This house was MADE for a dog like Jake. He spent countless hours in the back yard, sunning, napping, and “hunting.” He brought me more squirrels than I’d care to count. His final catch – just a couple of weeks ago – was a chipmunk. Those tiny little elusive things had escaped his honed hunting and retrieving abilities for years. The squirrels he could catch. The chipmunks were just too slippery and fast…and he finally did it.

After seven years with my loyal and faithful companion, I made the agonizing decision I knew I would ultimately face. He was just too dangerous to other people and other dogs, and despite my tireless efforts and those of many professionals, we were just not able to provide him with any relief from his intense fear and uncertainties about the world.

While it has been excruciating for me, I know that I have released him from the mental and emotional prison he was in, and he is now free. I try to console and comfort myself by thinking about all of our happy memories together – there are so many – and to think about the joy and happiness he did have in his life.

Jake was one of the best friends I have ever had, and he brought me so much joy and comfort for many years. We had some really great years together. I will always love and honor him for that, and I will never, ever forget my sweet, protective, loyal companion, Jake.