I’ve never been fond of dogs.

And by “never been fond of dogs”, I mean terrified beyond all logic and reason. Well, there is a reason, but it happened a long time ago when I was 2. The dog wasn’t attacking me, he was just overenthusiastic. But I didn’t know that, being 2 and all. The bigger and/or louder the dog, the worse it is. Unfortunately for me, I married a dog person.

We had been married about 3 years or so when I first started hearing about “it sure would be nice to have a dog. I really miss having a dog around. Let’s go look at the Humane Society.” By this time, we already were owned by a cat and were living in an apartment. Yes, they allowed both dogs and cats, but I was still against it. Then one day we went to the Humane Society.

We were just going to look. There were a lot of very, very loud dogs, each one running up to the bars of their cage as if on cue. You can just imagine how much fun one of us was having. Then we saw him.

He was a little guy; a rat terrier about 8 months old, as it turned out. Standing at the very back of his cage, even when we were right in front. He ran straight up to me and tried to kiss me through the chicken wire. And that was that.

It would have been 15 years in November when he came home to live with us. He’s been through…oh, 5 moves through 3 different states, School Girl’s placement with us, losing his feline buddy and gaining another. Lots and lots of things. His favorite place to live was when we were in northern California, and could go for walks on the Sacramento River levee. One day, when my parents were visiting us, we discovered that he really, really enjoyed chasing the wakes left by boats as they went up and down the river. He also loved road trips, just like the rest of us. His favorite place was sitting on Evil Dad’s lap and “helping” drive the car.

On Sunday, he couldn’t move his lower legs anymore. Evil Dad had to carry him into the car for the last time. He said the emergency vet allowed him to hold Chico in his arms while they gave him his last injection. He said that he seemed…at peace. Not suffering or in pain anymore, like he hadn’t been in a very long time. Which is all any one of us could ask for in death, I guess.

Even though dogs still frighten me, I miss Chico. We won’t have another. I’ll leave you with a picture of him in much happier times…

Our buddy. 1994 - 2009