Farewell to an awesome dog

Anyone who’s ever owned a pet knows the pure happiness and simple joy an animal who to call your own brings. 

Despite the smelliness of their fur and their breath and their digestive system, despite the pain-in-the-ass walks in the rain and poop-and-scooping, despite the cost and the hassle of having them around, you love them.

Unfortunately, almost everyone who’s owned a pet also knows the pain and heartache of losing them.

Let me tell you about an awesome dog named Chevy that left us far too early.

Chevy was a big, friendly husky with those big, expressive husky-blue eyes, the gentlest of personalities, and a dopey look about him thanks to some floppy ears that aren’t typical of his breed (an ear infection somehow damaged them when he was young).

Droopy ears on an awesome dog.

Chevy’s exact origins are somewhat unclear to me.  All I know is that he came into my life a few years ago courtesy of my stepfather, Roger who acquired him when he bought a house (when he wasn’t yet my stepfather, but already an unofficial member of the Robitaille clan) off a couple moving overseas. 

I understand that poor Chevy was tied up much of the time in his early years, pre-us, which is devastating for a dog, especially a husky who’s wired to run, run, run! For the love of all things good and holy RUN!

Even sadder is that one day while he was tied up, another dog came and attacked him, and he was unable to run away.  That encounter left him with some big scars – some visible, some not.  He was often nervous around other dogs.

When Roger moved into a pet-unfriendly condo a few years later, my brother Paul was quick to offer to take Chevy in as a boarder at my mom’s place (she, not much of an animal person, eventually agreed).

How could she turn this face away?

We’re so glad he did. 

Chevy quickly became an integral part of the family, and it’s safe to say he loved being at our place as much as we loved having him there.  He was happiest when he was around people (especially people with treats) and there were often a lot of people at our house to be around.  We rarely had to tie him up – he wasn’t one to run away.  He just loved hanging around our place. 

See? That's one happy puppy.

In the summer all that husky fur made for an uncomfortable and slow-moving dog.  His usual hot, summer day would consist of sleeping in the driveway in one spot for an hour or so at a time, getting up, moving about three metres, then flopping back down again for another hour’s snooze. My brother Johnny once joked that we should set up a bingo-style grid and place bets on where he’d flop next. 

Last summer when Johnny and I were staying at my mom’s, we woke up one morning to find a few porcupine quills stuck in Chevy’s nose.  I’m convinced that he didn’t try to attack the other animal, he just saw a prickly shape moving around and thought “yay! Someone to play with!  Hello friend! What do you smell like?” 

Ouch.  A costly (but worthwhile) trip to the vet later, we had a de-quilled and be-drugged Chevy on our hands.  It was so cute and sad to see him looking so dopey and bewildered and oh-so-sleepy.  He fell asleep in the vet’s office with his head on my foot, his drool soaking my shoe.  Awwwww. Chevy.

Doped-up Chevy.  See hoe his upper lip is caught on his paw?  Priceless.  After a few hours in this position I had to physically roll him over by grabbing his feet.  He had bits of gravel stuck to his lip. Poor pathetic Chevy. 

While the Robitaille’s loved Chevy tons, there’s one person who I think loved him most of all: my uncle Chris.

I can’t prove it, but I’m fairly certain that Chris’ visits to mom’s house increased exponentially once Chevy was around. 



Look at the love.

For Christmas last year I bought Chris a set of those glass coasters you slide a photo into to personalize them and set a photo of Chevy in each one.  He allegedly keeps a photo of Chevy on his fridge too.

I haven’t seen Chevy since I left Canada in January, but every time I talked to anyone at home via Skype, I’d be sure to ask to see the dog.  Except last time. I was so caught up in my own stupid dramas and stresses that I forgot to say hi to him – and do I ever regret it.

A few weeks ago I got an email from my mom with the title “A very lucky dog”.  She went on to explain that Chevy had very uncharacteristically wandered onto the road in front of our house where there’s an unfortunate blind spot, and was struck by a car.  They’d taken him to the vet with a bloody nose, but there didn’t seem to be anything wrong with him, so he was sent home with a few pain killers.  We all breathed a sigh of relief.

Yesterday though, I got another email.  This one was simply titled “Chevy” and it contained much worse news.  It seems that he hadn’t been himself since the accident. “Like a zombie, a body without a spirit”, as mom put it, and eventually, he couldn’t even stand up.  They had to put him down.

It’s been devastating.  I’ve been crying buckets and I understand that most of the family has been doing the same.  I’ve lost dogs before, but I think it’s harder for me cause I’m so far away, and when I left him he was so happy and healthy and now I’ll never see him again.

Bye buddy.  I miss you so much.

I miss your big bark and your happy growls.

I miss your prancy "foods-a-comin'!" dance.

I miss your insatiable hunger for treats.

I miss your canine smile and your barky greeting.

I miss your late night howling at cows and your all-day naps.

I miss your doggy stench and your doggy breath

I miss you.

If you’ve got a dog around, give ‘em a big hug and a pat and a cuddle and treat for me.  You never know when it’ll be their last.

Treats

Chevy's other biggest fan, Johnny.

One of the last times I pet him : (