Jenny's obituary
On May 11, 2023, our dog Jenny passed away peacefully in her backyard on a blanket beside her favourite swimming pool, in the twelfth year of her life, with the sun shining and the birds singing, and her entire family beside her. She was eating chicken, her favourite food, until the moment she left us.
Jenny filled our lives with so much happiness, unconditional love, laughter, and memories. She was our favourite hello and our hardest goodbye. Jenny was adopted from the Barrie Humane Society as a puppy. She was a little ball of fluff, a beautiful bordernese—a cross between a border collie and Bernese mountain dog. She was perfect. Our children named her after the character Jenny in the movie Forrest Gump. “Lieutenant Dan, this is my Jenny” was one of their favourite lines.
Dogs pick their person, and Jenny chose her daddy, Martin. She was his sidekick and best friend. Everywhere Martin went, Jenny followed. They drove to the hardware store, the tile store, home décor stores, and Starbucks. If Jenny wasn’t permitted into the store, Martin simply left. While he worked, she would wait for him on her couch, peering out the front window of the house, or sitting on the front lawn, watching until his truck pulled up. You knew he was home because you could hear Jenny’s cry no matter where you were in the house. Martin cared for Jenny right up until her last night, when he camped outside in the backyard with her so she could fall asleep enjoying the cool breeze that made breathing so much easier. While she was ill, he bought her a wagon to take her for walks around the neighbourhood. He would do anything for her.
After the kids moved out, Jenny was our solace, and during the pandemic when we all stayed home, she was always with us, constantly beside us. She took up so much space in our hearts and in our lives. She made us laugh. She was a gift.
Jenny loved to swim. She enjoyed our pool but her favourite place for a dip was the cottage. Every year our family spent a week on Lake Salerno, and she would be the first one in the water, regardless of the temperature or weather. We would strap a lifejacket on her because we never knew when she was sneaking out for a swim. She would be paddling all around us, hanging in between us while we sat on our floaties with our drinks. By dinner time she was so exhausted, she would put herself to bed by 6 pm.
She was a smart girl—that was the collie in her, obedient, clever, and protective. And she was a beacon on Donald Court, where we live. When you pulled in, Jenny was on the front lawn protecting her family, barking and growling at any delivery people.
The loss of Jenny has left an empty hole in our hearts. Jenny will be terribly missed by her extended family, her neighbours, her boyfriend Wallace, and her brothers (cats) Jack and Jim.
Our family is raising money for canine cancer research. If you’d like to honour her life—or the life of a dog who was special to you—donations can be made to the Ontario Veterinary College Pet Trust’s Smiling Blue Skies Cancer Fund at the University of Guelph. One hundred per cent of the funds are used to find more and better ways to manage and understand the complex and devastating disease of cancer. Not only will our pets benefit from our contributions, but the knowledge gained is also shared with human researchers, because dogs never stop giving to us, even after they’re gone.
“When you are sorrowful, look again in your heart and you shall see that in truth you are weeping for that which has been your delight.”