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A Eulogy For Chester

6/11/2013

 
With tears in my eyes, I wordlessly showed my husband a profile from the Humane Society website, a profile that was nearly two months old. Ryan said "Let's go" and in 15 minutes we were in a small room, palms sweating, toes tapping, waiting to meet the dog who was then called Burke. I burst into tears when he came in the room.

We had found our new dog.

Until that day I had thrived on a lack of spontaneous decisions. A myriad of lists, spreadsheets, and plans dominated my world. I had never done anything that even comes close to the impulsiveness of adopting Chester, but I powerless when it came to love at first sight.

I’d like to say that Chester (nee Burke) was as moved as I was but he initially displayed a cool indifference; a dog used to the easy come, easy go love of the shelter. But when we arrived with a shiny blue collar and new leash to pick him up, he strutted – he absolutely strutted – across the room when the shelter staff told him his new family had arrived. As the emotional volunteers crowded around to say their goodbyes, he raised his proud head and kept his eyes on me the whole time.

We were a family.
Picture
Chester's first day home - proud as punch with his jaunty new collar and his snug new bed.
Everyone says that when you adopt a homeless dog, you give them so much. A safe forever home, love, confidence, and security. But the truth is that we’re the lucky ones. We got so much more from Chester than we ever gave to him. He made our house a home; he laid the cornerstone of our family foundation. He was a source of such joy, such humor, and such pride. He gave us lazy Sunday afternoons and cheerful Monday mornings and a reason to rush home every night. He was unfailingly loyal, loving, and trusting.

And while Chester was always giving, something else was slowly taking everything away from him. The brain tumor snuck up on us, ridiculously stealthy and cloaked in a myriad of other possibilities. At first, it was nothing more than worsening of his slightly arthritic hips, then maybe a thyroid imbalance. A world champion eater, Chester’s appetite failed him and pancreatitis was suggested as he slowly, then rapidly, dropped 30 pounds from his frame. He lost his balance; he lost his dignity. He no longer barked, no longer ran, no longer pounced.

It robbed him of the ability to wag his tail. 
Picture
In his last months, Chester just wanted to cuddle and rest.

In the end, Chester was sleeping nearly 24 hours a day, all of it in our laps, with our arms around him. He tried so hard for so long and he put up such a fight.  His monumental effort to stay with us was humbling and, as I sat with his head in my lap, I had to grapple with concepts I had never considered before. Words like “mercy” entered my vocabulary for the first time as we gradually then urgently faced the most gut wrenching decision of our lives.

The heartache of caring for Chester as he slowly faded away began to cloud my memories of the dog he once was, but I’m determined not to forget his exceedingly vibrant personality, his boundless energy, his unquestioning enthusiasm for life, and – eventually – his quiet, gentle, unassuming determination. Our house, our life is so unbearably quiet now, so I try to fill it with the happiest of remembrances.

Things like how he had a strict hierarchy for his toys, and how he would give little growls to keep his toys in line.

Or how his habit of crawling under the table to emphatically share his toys with the laps of visiting guests earned him the unfortunate distinction as the inventor of “Crotch-ball”

Or how he discovered water and would run back and forth along the shore for hours in a desperate attempt to pounce and catch a wave. The only time we ever saw him dig is when he engineered a canal to trap the incoming water. 


Or how he had such a jaunty walk and we would occasionally call him “Mr Prance”. When the staff of the grooming salon told him how handsome he was, he was insufferable!

He was also nicknamed "Slink-ster", a tribute to both his ability to always steal a quilt to snuggle in, and also for a notorious incident when he escaped from the world's tiniest window.


He loved bacon, peanut butter, and cheese, but most of all he loved dried apricots and would come running when he heard me open up a mason jar.

He barked like crazy if you yodeled or if you pretended to “attack” his foot with your foot. 


Despite our best efforts to the contrary, he enthusiastically and successfully snapped at and caught bumblebees.

He won first place in his obedience training class as the dog who did the most consecutive alternating “sits” and “downs” in a row. His prize was a can of canine pumpkin pie.


His ears were so incredibly soft and they had dozens of different positions to reflect his moods.

When he woke up in the morning, he’d come over to me and bury his head in my lap as I rubbed his eyes, scritched his ears, and told him what a nice boy he was.

Chester was a good dog.

Picture
This is how I'll always remember Chester.
Sarah
6/11/2013 01:06:08 pm

You done good for both you and your family, and Chester. Thank you for sharing this lovely remembrance. I've also experienced the decisive loss of Poirot, a terrier/chihuahua mix, and to this day, cannot speak of his last moments without breaking into tears. It's just so heartbreaking. But I'm thankful for the intertwining of our lives, and when the time is right, I'm going to adopt an older dog from the local SPCA. All animals deserve a loving home! Thank you!

Vanessa
6/11/2013 01:14:00 pm

Thank you so much for your kind comments Sarah. I'm so sorry about losing Poirot. I don't know when I'll be ready for another dog, but I too will be adopting from the shelter.

Heather N
6/11/2013 02:35:22 pm

I am so very sorry to hear about Chester, and the raw heartache that I know you're feeling right now. My dog eats bees too, no matter how hard I try to stop her--that note really tugged at me. It sounds like you were all wonderfully lucky to have each other. RIP Chester.

Vanessa
6/11/2013 03:07:27 pm

Thank you so much Heather. What is it about bees that dogs are so interested in? Chester only started noticing them a few years ago and then he couldn't get enough!

Jonathan and Bandit
7/11/2013 10:14:06 am

Dear Vanessa:

It was with great sadness that I heard about Chester's initial struggles and his passing. As an occassional victim of the "crotch ball," I can attest to his good nature. He was a wonderful dog to hang out with at the park, and you guys did a wonderful thing when you decided to take him in all those years ago.

Bandit (my cocker spaniel) and I may lost a buddy, but we were overwhelmingly blessed by his presence. Keep all the good memories close at hand, while the pain of loss slowly diminishes.

Vanessa
7/11/2013 12:30:27 pm

Thank you Jon! I'll miss the fun of watching Chester and Bandit play together - they were a good pair.

Deia @ Nomad Wallet link
8/11/2013 05:22:17 pm

It's always heartbreaking when you lose a pet, they're like part of the family. I lost my cat when I was 10 and it was the most tragic day of my childhood. Hang in there.

Vanessa
9/11/2013 12:28:57 am

Thank you so much for your kind words and support.


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