I had to put my dog C. J. down in March of 2011 at the age of 17. C. J. was one of the highlights of my life. I often think of him, and it always makes me smile. Any pet owner will appreciate how I felt and still feel about my little dog. He was a mutt who weighed only about 20 pounds. The adoption paper said “Terrier / X”, and over the years I determined the “X” part consisted of at least husky, shepherd, and a couple other fence-jumpers.
My most memorable story of C. J. is the day we went to pick up the Honey-Baked Thanksgiving ham when he was about one year old. Because of some conflicting appointments, I had to pick up the ham first and then leave C. J. in my SUV with the ham for a few minutes. To solve this obvious problem I brought along a yellow tub to cover and protect the ham while C. J. was alone with it in the car. I picked up the ham, drove to my other appointment, placed the tub over the ham and walked to my appointment.
I was gone less than five minutes. Upon arriving back at the car I noticed the missing C. J. My first thought was I might have left the window down too far and he had jumped out. Then I noticed the yellow tub shifting about in the back of the vehicle. By the time I lifted the tub and got C. J away from his treat he had already eaten a pound of ham, including its aluminum foil covering.
After arriving at home I cut out the portions in the area where C. J. had feasted and served the ham to my guests on Thanksgiving. Several years later I confessed my indiscretions at the Thanksgiving dinner table and we all enjoyed a big laugh.
C. J. always ate well, especially after Thanksgiving. I made certain every year that he got the ham bone, which kept him busy over the course of several days. I am certain I will think with pleasure of C. J. and the ham every Thanksgiving holiday for the rest of my life.