Jakebrothers Everywhere
I am getting ready to publish The Jake of Everything, a children’s book in the way Charlotte’s Web is a children’s book in that it centers a girl and her BFF animal friend amidst universal themes of friendship and grief.
But it isn’t really a book just for children despite the characters; if I had to describe it (which I don’t like to do, it’s ridiculously difficult to boil a book and it’s world down to a single sentence) I guess I would say it is a story about dealing with death, and how finding the right words at the right time won’t prevent it but can express a love that outlasts it. It’s in the hands of the illustrator now and will be launched into the world in February.
Jake, our chocolate Labrador, is the BFF of Sophia in the story and in real life. The story is fiction of course, but as with most fiction based in certain realities, one of them being that Jake makes friends everywhere he goes. In the book, friends of Jake are called Jakebrothers and Jakesisters, a badge that is worn with honor.
Portugal is no exception; last night Sophia and I walked down to the local churrasqueira with Jake in tow; Sophia wanted to say hi again to the proprietors Carlos and Elaina, whom she met on her first visit here, three seasons ago. When Jake gleaned we were off for a walk he insisted on accompanying, and since he considers Carlos his friend as much as mine, the deal was sealed. There was a line of half a dozen people snaking out of the little shop, which is takeaway only. Jake quickly introduced himself to the people in line ahead of us, after shouldering his way into the shop to give Carlos a friendly “I’m here!” bark.
“Bonito bonito bonito!” Carlos replied, as always. The two men just in front of us petted Jake and made much of him; iPhones were produced and pictures of their dogs displayed - a pert one-year-old Doberman puppy and a shaggy white Great Pyrenees. In my halting Portuguese I told them Jake’s name and age. One of them told me about his last dog, who died at age 12 - Jake’s current age. Tears sprang to my eyes when I heard the word “died”, a word I had to look up in order to explain to my non-English speaking Portuguese neighbors that my daddy passed away this summer. Perhaps seeing them, the man hastened to add “But Jake looks very healthy!”
“I love your good dog” said one man in carefully enunciated English. “My English is so bad,” he lamented, laughing.
“Nao, eu te entendo ,” I reassured him. I understand you. “Sua Ingles esta melhor que o meu Portugues.” At which he protested no! it was not true, my Portuguese is so good! People here are so encouraging when you make the least effort to meet them where they are.
Today during our morning walk Jake as usual paused in strategic places where the walk could be extended to known longer routes, past his friends the butcher and his wife who always have pets and the vet who always has biscuits.
“Sorry, bud, we’re going back,” I told him. On the narrowest part of the sidewalk headed home a gate suddenly opened and a nicely dressed couple emerged. “Sandra!” a voice exclaimed. It was Ricardo, a neighbor who introduced himself to me over the gate of my driveway a few months ago. Most of our neighbors have at one time or another claimed our driveway as long term parking spots, but no one holds it against us that our presence means the loss of one of the most coveted assets in the village.
Ricardo introduced me to his wife, I introduced them to Jake and they invited us in to see their renovated home, which like ours is more than one hundred years old and also like ours was in very bad repair (fallen roof, rotted floors) when acquired.
The house was stunning, all the more so for the fact the two of them did all the renovations themselves, including repairs to the cracked and fallen crown moldings and ceiling medallions, a task I have been wondering how I’ll tackle. “It was so easy!” said Ricardo’s wife, who as it happens is also named Sandra.
“I love your dog!” Sandra said, as Jake sniffed about the sculptural landscaping. Their cat decidedly did not love Jake, but Jake didn’t mind.
I returned home full of ideas and a gratitude that keeps growing with every new encounter I have in my adoptive home. How lucky we are to have made the leap we’ve made - at the time not knowing all the good that surrounds us, seeing only a wild, unkept near-ruin that we inexplicably fell in love with.
Jake and I found neighbor Alberto waiting at the gate with some fresh-picked broccoli. Jake boomed his hello bark and accepted pets, then bounded inside to snuggle with his sister. He’s been so happy at the reunion he has barely left her side, snuggling next to her on the couch and sleeping with her every night, eschewing our bed and leaving her side only for breakfast
