Jake's my boy. He was supposed to be my wife's boy. I didn't want to walk, feed or otherwise be responsible for a dog, but she assured me she'd take care of him. "Don't worry," she said, "you won't even know he's here." Jake's a 90-pound German shepherd — he's pretty hard to miss.

Fast forward nine years and I still can't fathom how much the furry little guy has gotten to me. Maybe it's the fact that long after my kids stopped being impressed when I walk in the door after work, Jake still treats me like a rock star. And when it's time to go to sleep, he'll sit patiently beside my bed until I reach over to give him a few pats on the head before he makes his way over to his own bed.

Age has brought some issues for Jake. His breed is susceptible to hip dysplasia, so he gets a pass when he decides to sprawl out on the couch. Our nightly eye-drop routine to treat an auto-immune condition is so finely honed that when we come in from our last walk of the night, he immediately lays on his side waiting for me to get his drops. A simple "roll over, puppy" and a hand on his shoulder is all it takes to get all 90 pounds of him to flip to his other side for another drop.

And when his sensitive stomach results in the occasional accident in the house, there's no recriminations, just late-night visits to the supermarket to get the provisions for the boiled chicken and rice to settle him down.

It was just after just such an accident last March that our vet discovered the anal-gland tumor. We luckily caught it early, but the tests and subsequent surgery put a considerable dent in our budget. All seemed fine until July, when a follow-up visit revealed another tumor. So we reached deeper into our budget and started calling Jake "Duck" as he was now the walking embodiment of our heretofore annual vacation to that Outer Banks town.

We keep our fingers crossed as we wait for his next visit, and I try to keep him interested in the assortment of pills he must take by burying them in an ever-changing variety of treats. I'm also getting used to the fun that comes with inspecting and cleaning an area of his anatomy that I'd just as soon avoid. But hey, like I said, Jake's my boy.

Dave Gaudioso
Havertown