Saying goodbye to my good friend, Jax the Lucky Dog, who left us at 1:10 a.m. Eastern on Sept. 20.
He was at my feet for every hockey game, that is, when he was not beside me on the couch trying to gain possession of some popcorn in the bowl. Jax was quite a forechecker in that regard. And he was great when I needed some consolation for a loss, an illness or a misjudgment. No questions from Jax, just support.
I am fighting the urge to turn out the lights, close the curtains, turn up the air-conditioner, put Radiohead's "OK Computer" on endless play and just drink until the pain in my head matches the pain in my heart. But then Jax wouldn't be there to scoot up real close, nuzzle me and let me know that things might just be OK.
The old black dog has moved on, but he was there for me every time. I wish that I could say the same about me for him. But there's nothing I can do for him now except wish him a safe journey. Jax, hopefully we'll meet again sometime over a bowl of popcorn.
I'll never forget you, Jax. You're the best. I love you.
