Jasper Grows Up

I’ve always been interested in time—how it passes, how we remember it, when it slows and when it flies. In fact, time was the subject of my speech that won the Colorado state speech and debate tournament in 1990. And so while I know there’s nothing I can do to slow down the clock on life, I can’t help but look at Jasper and worry about the end of his.

Paw prints in the sand. One of my favorite photos from the beach in Quogue, NY.

Jasper is four years old now. No longer a puppy but young enough to have a puppy’s characteristics. Jasper’s lean, athletic, and strong. “Fit as a butcher’s dog,” Peter says. And except for the occasional cut paw or stomach bug (called collywobbles in England), he’s healthy.

Strike a pose: Jasper playing in his bed. Notice that, in deference to Gutfeld, I cropped the junk out.)

He hardly ever needs a telling off—he’s well behaved and easy to take care of. We take him with us into shops that allow dogs, and he’s an angel. Everyone loves him. (Especially the ladies. I tell my single male friends that they should take him out to the park for a couple of hours—they are destined to meet a few young ladies on that walk.)

I can tell he’s older now, because he sleeps a bit longer and doesn’t need to go out as much as he did as a youngster. And he can be left on his own for a couple of hours without any problems (except for the occasional protest pee in South Carolina when he knows he’s missing out).

Coppertone Dog.

And I also know he’s aging because I can see little white bits of fur growing under his chin and in tiny spots on his cheeks and his paws. It crushes me. I don’t want him to grow old. I want him to always be my puppy Jasper. And I get a lump in my throat when I think about it. Dog owners always count the years.

My head tells me I just need to enjoy him fully and to take good care of him and not worry about the end, but my heart… well, it breaks because of the inevitable.

That’s one of the reasons I’m so excited to share these stories with you. Writing about Joco, Henry, and Jasper commemorates them on the page. And it makes me realize how blessed and full of love my life is.

So enjoy Jasper, America. He is our dog.