Climbed by year and month
You have climbed 92/282 munros.
Jake came to us from Poplar Farm kennels where he found himself after his previous Mom and Dad had to hand him in. They were out at work all day and he just never got used to being alone, nearly chewing his way through a door was the signal that started his journey to us.
Coming to us so soon as he did after we lost Tilly was always going to be a hard act to follow. He never replaced her, he was her equal. He settled in well and was off the lead running round the park within a couple of weeks. We had many fine adventures with him. He loved traveling in any of the Land Rovers. Especially when we got Dougal the Discovery where in the crate he had the freedom to bounce around dramatically crashing into the sides at every opportunity, usually passing cars but anything would do just because he could.
In the last couple of years, often whilst Paul was sailing, I took him on trips to Scotland, and wild camping in the Lakes. I got the impression he loved the scenery too. And the rain was something best watched from the comfort of a dry doorway. The last wild camp we did together was the first high camp I'd done, and possibly him too. At 800metres watching the sun sinking below the horizon, the next morning rising and warming us after a snuggly night together in my one-man 'wee hoose' is something I shall remember for a very long time.
Little did we know, or could have imagined, this morning of the events that were about to unfold which have again shown us the fragility of life. Mid-afternoon I noticed Jake was dribbling a little and panting. Thinking he might want a wee I suggested he might want to see the garden. However, it seemed he could not stand up. By 3:30pm we were in the car on the way to Holly Oaks vets. After some tests for him, an anxious wait, and much discussion, it was decided he should go to sleep and join Tilly in that place where all good doggies go... He was bleeding into his abdominal cavity probably from a tumour of the spleen. Even with immediate surgery his chances of survival were very slim indeed. We were with him at the end.
Jake, dog of the Mountains
Rest in Peace little guy.