Chewie's perfect life was cut short by a very harsh cancer. He survived 3 months after diagnosis, but over the weekend he stopped eating and stopped moving except when entreated by both of us. It was his time. . .
Zak and I brought Chewie from Tuscon to his forever home in the Jemez Mountains in September of 2015.
He was afraid to come with us, and he did not handle the car ride well. But once he arrived in the Jemez, he knew he was home.
He was afraid to come with us, and he did not handle the car ride well. But once he arrived in the Jemez, he knew he was home.
And he and I forged a bond stronger than most dogs-humans can hope to achieve. He understood what to do to be a good dog, and always tried to be the best. He peed inside only once and then was house-trained. He stuck by my side so closely that he only needed a leash to keep him from going up to moving cars to say hello. He was a great therapy dog at the assisted living facility when my mother was there. I defended him from aggressive cattle and dogs that attacked him. We went up and down mountains, through deep snow, across rivers (though he mostly preferred bridges). Writing this today, there is a painful hole where that bond was, a lonely hole in our home where he lived, and a hole in my time that was devoted to his routine every day. I am glad he was such a photogenic dog, that we will have so many photos to go with our magnificent memories of him.
He never took food from the counter, even when he knew it was for him, like this cake Ana made for him when he was diagnosed.
Chewie met his dog-soul-mate Lila
For almost seven years, Chewie hiked the Jemez Moutains with us. He was especially my constant companion - we made sure each other got our daily walk.
He loved and cared for everyone.
And he was never a knotty dog
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