Farewell, Chewy

My dog died today. I am very sad.

Chewy has been part of my family for the past 12 1/2 years. I got him when he was 9 weeks old. I was just 23 myself, fresh out of college and living completely on my own for the first time.

Chewy was with me through my first marriage and divorce. I wanted him to be the ring bearer at my first wedding, and my ex mother-in-law nixed the idea. Maybe that should have been a clue?

Chewy was with me during my single years, when I was all alone here on the farm. His big, booming bark made me feel better, especially when I heard strange noises at night.

Chewy WAS in my second wedding. I did it right the second time around.


Chewy was with we when I had my own kids, and handled them with grace.

Chewy was the dog that made me like dogs. I've always been a cat person, but his quiet dignity and loyalty won me over. Wherever I went in the house, Chewy was there. When I was cooking, he camped out under the kitchen table. In the living room, he had a special place right behind my chair. At night, he slept right next to my bed.

Chewy even got me out of a speeding ticket, once. I was going 23 mph over the speed limit (I know better now). It was summer, and the windows were down. The cop approached my car with a stern look on his face. He saw Chewy's snout sticking out the back window and got a big smile on his face. The next thing I know, the cop is petting my dog. Done - no ticket for me! :)

Chewy was NOT the perfect dog, though. He had a stubborn streak a mile wide. When he wanted to lay outside in the sun, there was nothing you could do or say to make him come. He'd take a number and get back to you, eventually. He also had allergies that are all too common with golden retrievers, and would lose most of the fur on his underside every summer. I had to buy a new vaccuum every few years, just to keep up with the shedding.


I am grateful that I've been able to spend this time with him. He would have been 13 on July 24, which is old for a golden. We were fortunate that he was active and happy, up until the end. Last weekend, he went running with me. Two days ago, he was out laying in the sun (again) while my boys climbed their first trees. My youngest made me take a picture of Chewy. Had I known it would be his last, I would have done a better job. Life is cruel sometimes, I guess.

Yesterday morning, he didn't get up with me. For a dog that usually follows me around the house (and down to the barn), that was unusual. He missed the morning run yesterday too. The boys and I ran errands, and when we got home in the afternoon, Chewy was laying on the kitchen floor with his hind legs out straight. Something definitely wasn't right. A few hours later, he couldn't walk anymore.

My husband and I talked about taking him to the emergency clinic, but decided against it. Chewy didn't seem to be in any pain, so we decided to wait for our vet on Monday. We covered him with blankets, gave him water, and carried him outside every few hours.

Chewy died in his sleep during the night. We buried him out back, next to the fields where he used to run. I'll always remember his smile, and the dog that made me a dog person too. I love you Chewy, and I'll never forget you.

My dog died today. I am very sad.