Jackson Jambalaya

13 years of fun ended two years ago today as Louis XIV passed away at the age of 16.  It’s been quite some time since his passing, but it was a hard loss and I’m just now writing about it.  This little Cavalier King Charles Spaniel might have been small in body, but he was giant in spirit.  The knucklehead was my partner in crime, my therapist, and yes, my boy. 

Meeting Louis XIV began with a strange twist of fate as is so often the case. I started keeping a friend’s Cavalier when she traveled.  I’m not crazy about most small breeds but Sophie didn’t yap nor did she tear up anything in the house.  She was always up for a good game of tug of war as well. I'd grown quite fond of the little princess when opportunity came knocking a couple of months after my 15 year-old dog passed away in 2008.  

A woman placed an ad selling her 2 ½ year old Cavalier in the Times-Picayune.  An ob-gyn nurse, she worked over 60 hours a week and simply didn’t have the time for him he deserved.  She sent me pictures of him, pictures I kept looking at every so often for a day or two before I made an appointment to meet the little scamp.  

 

First pic owner sent

I drove down to Laplace at the appointed time only to find out I wasn't adopting him as he was adopting me.  The rambunctious little mutt ran around the yard, teasing us with a tennis ball.  When I finally sat down, he jumped up in my lap, stood up, placed a paw on each shoulder, and put his head against mine.  How do you say no when the dog picks you?

He never cried after leaving his old home as he made himself right at home in mine.  So began a 13+ year adventure with the most fun dog I ever had.  Fetch, tug of war, or just plain ole scrapping, it didn't matter as he loved to play and play hard. He never let you out of his sight.  Some made fun of him for being clingy (Right, Monica & Stiletto?) but that trait meant I could take him almost anywhere without a leash as he never once tried to run away.  Then there were the pillows and blankets.  The dog named after a king decided he would be king as he sometimes took up to five minutes to rearrange pillows or blankets to his satisfaction.  What can I say? I spoiled him rotten and it showed as he graduated from a spoiled brat to a jerk to a little monster. No demand or imposition was too great for him to make on you but that was part of the mosaic that made him special and what a mosaic it was. 

Louis XIV might not have tried to run away but he loved to run.  We often walked the levee where he ran rings around me with energy to spare.  The knucklehead owned Laurel Park.  He pleased many a mother as he teased their children into chasing him.  One mother said something about being grateful for his wearing their kids out.  I assume parents know what she meant.  However, his favorite game at the park was to play hide and seek.  I would fake a throw with a tennis ball and toss it in another direction after he got a full head of steam.    He might scour the park for up to 15 minutes, but he always found it and never went to the same place twice, so good was his memory. 

How spoiled was the knucklehead?  He rode everywhere with me.  He knew which coffee shops, pet stores, and banks offered him streets.  Indeed, he eventually recognized them from the street.  He had his own pillow on the front seat. How spoiled was he? When he lost most of his teeth, he got catfish every Friday, cut up of course, from the McDade’s deli.  How spoiled was he? He jumped up on the bed all day long – until you got in it.  Once you were comfortable, he would sit on the floor, looking up at you with those small big eyes that showed almost as much expression as a person.  Whines were sometimes used to mark time as he waited you out.  I tried to outlast him one night.  After 30 minutes, I gave up.  He won.  Jerk. 

However, nothing ever brought out the brat in him as did other dogs.  I had three other Cavaliers over the years while he was alive.  He ignored every one of them, going so far as to sleep under the covers so he didn’t have to look at them.  How did I figure that out?  When each one passed away, he immediately went back to sleeping on top of the covers that night.  He even went so far as to devour their food once he figured out they weren’t coming home again.  See how happy he is in the picture below? That picture was taken at 12:30 PM after a Cavalier I’d rescued two months earlier went to his new home.  That expression stayed on his face as he partied until he went to sleep that night, so happy was he to have the house back to himself again.  So much for being a breed snob, he was just a snob although he liked cats.  Go figure.  

Celebrating after a dog went to his new home.

 Our little tradition was to go to Pepsi Pops every year. These excursions were quite funny as he was quite the little dynamo for the first couple of hours, wearing out every kid who came to play with him. The feistiness continued until he ran out of gas around intermission and crashed in my lap for the rest of the evening.  “Just carry me to the car, Dad, and I’ll see you in the morning,” he always seemed to say.  Heve even slept through the fireworks.  Good boy. However, there is always a however, he did like to pull one little stunt at Pepsi Pops.  Once I was talking to Marshall Ramsey and Maggie Wade during a break in the festivities when he began to whine… and whine…. And whine.  He didn’t stop whining until I picked him up and yes, cradled him.  Don’t say it.  Just don’t.  I know.  He actually had a “I want to be held” cry he saved exclusively for strangers in public as babies are want to do.  Yup, that’s what he was, a 15lb baby that never grew up. Thanks for embarrassing me.  Jerk.   

The fun continued for years until April 2021 when he suffered a massive infection.  He was so sick his tongue turned blue.  He spent all night and the next day at the vet on an oxygen mask but the vet wrote down “humanely euthanize him” in the chart when I picked him up at 5.  The vet said he would not make it through the night.  We drove somewhere and watched one last sunset together as I held his sickly body before bringing him home.  I planned to take him to the emergency clinic if he started to suffer but such was not yet to be.

A friend who babysat him some came over to see him that night.  Experienced in animal rescue, she got a syringe and fed him water.  He drank it.  We moved him up to milk.  He drank it as well.  He was weak but a little while later he was panting and smiling.  He sat up in bed at 2 AM, smiling away.  Ok, kid, if you're not giving up, neither am I. We are going to beat this thing.  Operation Save Louis XIV was underway. 

 

Recovery!  A few hours after euthanasia recommended.

I took him back to the vet for more oxygen and an IV for nutrition as we hoped the antibiotics would do their job.  While he was safe at the vet, I tracked down an oxygen tank at Blue Dot in Flowood (and thank you to the readers who donated tanks.).  I managed to score an oxygen mask for dogs from an area fire department. He started to eat a day later as the drugs worked. I kept him for an hour on oxygen every day for the next week.  9 days after he first fell ill, his tongue stayed pink a full day without oxygen. Hallelujah.

Every day for over a week.  It worked.

Knuckleheadicus Maximus made it but make no mistake, we were on borrowed time.  As it turned out, the good Lord gave us six months and we made the most of those six months. 

Most of his teeth were gone but he still ate well.  Friday’s meant cut-up fried catfish from the McDade’s deli  (This is the South after all) and good ole gizzards from the same deli on Monday (run through a food processor of course.). He moped around the house but perked up in the SUV so we went for an hour ride every day.  He especially liked driving to Gibbes as the staff saved lamb chop bones that he thoroughly enjoyed. 

The body was weak but he still enjoyed life as you can see in the picture below.  We made one last trip to Pepsi Pops.  He couldn’t walk that much but he thought he was royalty as he rode in the wagon.  Maybe he was.  

The fun continued and fun it was until October rolled around.  The kidneys weakened. We fought that problem and fought it hard but the his body, so strong for so long, was failing.  He had gradually lost weight since April and nothing reversed that trend.  His energy was pretty low during his last weekend.  I managed to feed and water him with a syringe and held him up while he did his business.  However, a massive seizure hit that Saturday night and I had no choice but to take him to the emergency vet at midnight. 

It was Halloween weekend.  As Facebook filled with photos of families having fun, I made a darker trip with my pup, knowing his light would soon be extinguished.  He was the best boy a daddy could ever ask for.  Rest in peace, Knucklehead, Daddy still loves you.  

Mine!

Taking over the Rankin County Circuit Clerk's office

Chillin'

King of Laurel Street Park