Jake is the son of Harriet, one of nine puppies that Harry Kipper and I assisted in the birth of, in Venice Ca on Lincoln Blvd in a house behind a printing shop. Jake I remember him drinking out of the palm of my hand and we put a tent up in the backyard and let them be in the tent and run all around the backyard because it was fenced in, but they all wanted to come into the house always, all nine of them and Harriet, and whenever we went to open the door he was the one with his nose stuck into the edge of the door, in the front, he was the first, it was his house. If anyone's going to get in it's going to be me, okay guys? That's Jake. He looked like a french version of Benjamin Franklin, with a brown beret on one ear and a little thin black line on his lips that looked like a little thin french mustache. And he was the first to get on the couch and the first to growl if anyone sat down next to him, and I think he was all of seven weeks old. He was born soon after my father died. I named him Jake after my father Jack. He was my only son.