Jake came out of the Sacramento dog pound. I didn’t go there looking for a dog, I actually wanted a cat, but of course had to go look at the dogs. At the Sacto pound, all the dogs that were picked up on a single day were put in the same cage — one for all the males, and one for all the females. The workers would just move the sign that stated their last day: THREE DAYS, TWO DAYS, ONE DAY, and they would get killed at the end of ONE DAY. There was a lot of activity in the THREE DAYS cage, quite a few dogs were growling and posturing, scrapping, and lifting their legs in their food and water dishes. And then there was this blue merle dog lying down in the back with one front leg over the other, looking around him with an air of confidence. “Yep, if I just hang out here, something good will happen.” He struck me, and I hated leaving him there when I left (without a cat as well).
I thought a lot about that dog for the next two days, and finally, on the last day, shortly before 5:00 o’clock, I went to see if he was still there. Surely he’d been released.
He was stil waiting, still looking upbeat and optimistic. So he came home with me. I told Warren we’d train him and find a good home. But when a good home came along (a feed lot operator up in Red Bluff thought he’d make a good cow dog) Warren had bonded with the funny little blue dog, and he stayed with us.
Jake was a rogue. No wonder he was in the pound — he took off every chance he got. He’d be gone for a few days and come home worn out and happy. If Jake had been human, he’d have been a smoker, drinker and carouser!
Jake was our demolition derby mascot. He loved the noise and activity of the mechanic’s pit and loved hanging out in the car. At the gas station we worked at, his favourite thing was to sit in the customer’s car as it was up on the hoist. From there he would look out the shop bay door and watch the day go by.
Jake was a character.