this is chiefi about a year ago. we'd had him for about 8 months and i still called him wicket (like the ewok) because i thought it was a more fitting name.
i'll spare you from seeing a picture of chiefi yesterday. it was heartbreaking. you see, chiefi got ran over by a car on state street.
i always figured people whose dogs died were just being dramatic. i've sent dogs to the pound before or given them away. it can't be that different, right? WRONG!! oh my goodness, for all of you out there who have had dogs die, i am sorry i judged you. this is one of the most sad things that has ever happened to me. i feel like a person died. like my little brother. i keep expecting to see him or hear the little jingle of his tags when he runs around the house.
chiefi and i had a love-hate relationship, and it was becoming more and more love lately. literally in the last three weeks, chiefi has been growing up. he's not as obnoxious and listens. if you opened the door a month ago, chiefi would bolt out of it like his life depended on his freedom from the house. these past few weeks, he would sit at the threshold until you called him out. he barked at everything, but was also terrified of everything. lately, he's been barking only at actual threats, and actually single-handedly chased a huge dog out of our backyard (that coco completely missed). he was always affectionate, but has been less needy lately. he really was just a cute dog.
i am convinced that chief is the reason coco is still alive today. she was getting depressed and slowing waaay down 18 months ago, before we got chief. the day we brought him home, it was like coco was a new dog. she had been given a breath of life. chief kept her young. i never imagined chief would die before coco. i envisioned us as owners of just a small dog once coco died. this is so backwards.
beyond all that, chiefi was the only thing mason wanted in the hospital. when he had just come out of two surgeries and was uber depressed, mason cried for his puppy. and the hospital obliged. we were given special permission for chiefi to come visit mason, and it made mason's whole week. he smiled for the first time in weeks and it was a turning point in his treatment. he was up and walking again and out of the hospital in amazing time.
a few weeks ago, my dad fell into the lake. chiefi played the role of lassie, freaking out until my dad was safe back on shore. chiefi was my dad's forever companion. he would cry if my dad left without him.
i guess, needless to say, chiefi will always have a soft spot in my heart. when we first got him, i was convinced i hated him because i don't like little dogs. chiefi changed my mind about little dogs forever. he was a sweet dog, and fiercely protective and loyal.
he had gone outside with coco on friday night and never came back. around 2 am, me and coco roamed a one mile circle around our house, calling for chiefi and whistling, carefully stopping to listen for the jingle of his collar. after over an hour of driving around, i gave up and came home. my hope was that someone had found him late at night and would bring him home at a normal hour. the next morning, on the way to mason's curesearch walk, my mom and sister (with mason in the car) saw him, dead on the road.
when i got the call, i did not believe it. chiefi never went farther than the next door neighbor's house. he was too scared, and would come bounding back any time coco did. i convinced vili to drive by, just so i could see for myself. what i saw was heartbreaking. i was shocked, could not believe i was really seeing our chiefi with his innards no longer in. we got a shovel and bag, and brought him home for the last time. my dad could not even talk to us, he was so upset.
i wish i could say that we had a funeral service; that we buried him in a way that signified our love for him and gratitude for his role in our lives. unfortunately, none of us could bare looking at him. burying him was just one step too far in the grief cycle. so, we put him in the garbage can and he was taken by the folks at waste management to the dump. i like to think that was better than leaving him on the road, to continue to be ran over until someone else finally got around to scraping him up and taking him to the dump. at least the ones who did the scraping loved that dog.