For nearly 15 years, my family included a dog that lived with us. Jake was full-grown when we picked him up at a dog pound in California and was probably a cross between a Jack Russell terrier and beagle. For most of those years, he did pretty much as he pleased, as he was a strong-willed, but charming, little S.O.B.

Always spry and active, the last few months of his life were a struggle for him. Toward the end, he couldn’t see, couldn’t hear, slept all day and carried a softball-size tumor on his leg. The time came — as it will for all of us — when Jake’s options ran out.

We missed the little guy, despite his idiosyncrasies.