Au revior mon ami

Jackson and I always got mistaken for each other, even by our peeps. And from the this picture (the last one taken of him) you can totally see why.

Obviously, we had our differences. He was a poodle, I'm a French Water Dog. He ate when the food was there. I eat when I feel like eating. He ran like a little lamb skipping through the meadow. I run like a....well,  I don't run enough anymore to complete this simile, but you get the idea.

We had regular visits, Jackson and me, mostly centred around dinner parties. He'd host Thanksgiving, Valentine's Day and Spring Fling. I'd host Mmmarch, Cinco De Milo and, of course, the Yurkenbaum bashes. The show'll still go on at his house, but now Tiia and Dan will have to remember to bring my food, which is too bad because I liked Jackson's kibble. A lot.

Jackson, as you get settled on the farm, please save a spot for me so we can confuse the man upstairs as well. Fun for eternity.