Life without a dog is tough enough, but life without Chloe is proving to be very, very difficult.
I went to Buddy Dog last week (the local animal shelter where I have been a long-time volunteer), and the sweetest little dog had just come in from animal control. She looked like someone shrank Chloe, and I was drawn to her immediately.
The request from the home front was not to just show up with another dog (Who, me?), so I didn’t bring Tootie, as they had named her, home. Instead, I took pictures and videos home and tried to convince Rob and, in truth myself, that the time was right.
It’s been two months with a quiet house, and I miss having a dog here. Even more than that, I miss Chloe’s smart, sweet, determined little presence. Over thirteen years of having her as one of our “3 Musketeers” thing. If Rob hugged me, Chloe would bark in protest; she would not tolerate being excluded.
She was 4 ½ when we adopted her, and right away she was a perfect fit. Smart and sweet but determined. We never owned Chloe; rather, we gladly and gratefully shared our lives with her and she with us. She was a gift, and we were richer, and now poorer for that gift… gone now except in our memories.
Rob nicknamed her “Poody” at some point, and it stuck. She responded to it, and it was universally accepted in our house that “Poody owned the world”. Everything belonged to Chloe, and she influenced our lives and our decisions…probably more as she got older. Maybe because she was needier, but I suspect because we just fell more in love with her with each passing year.
She went for a daily walk on “Poody’s Path” and played with “Poody’s Potholder” (my failed attempt at spinning, knitting and felting a dog toy from our sheep’s wool). Ironically, this turned out to be her favorite, and she would chew on the wool for hours. If she pulled any yarn loose, we would just tie it back together and she would have a go at it again. She had a lot of real toys, but this was her favorite. Kind of like the kid who gets a great toy and would rather play with the box…
To have loved a dog like this is a gift. I hope it will happen again, but if it doesn’t, I will still consider myself lucky and graced by a force I don’t yet understand…
May you love your dog this much…
To Your Dog’s Good Health!