Chester

Oh, Chester. What a dear, wise, wonderful Old Soul you are. I remember the first time I met you, that week I spent in BC, Christmas 2000. I cried when John took me to the airport, because I didn't want to leave you. You were everything I love in a dog, except big, and with all that attitude, heart and intellect, it didn't seem to matter. I had heard - many times - that the Shiba Inu is a big dog in a small dog's body. Often I'd heard that said a little huffily, as one hears about the Jack Russell. But you weren't full of yourself or demanding or in any way obnoxious (not that Jacks are, lol!) You were a little bored, you were full of energy, you hung onto me because unlike your busy Mom and Dad, I had a ton of time to focus just on you. I taught you some new tricks, walked you, and did TTouch on you even though John had said it simply wouldn't be possible. You slept on my bed, as if to offer some combination of gratitude (I went to the T-sol and bought you treats and toys) and also it seemed you knew how much I was missing Luke and Lila. I bet you heard me call home three times a day to make sure my guys were ok, too. You knew a good thing when you saw it, and so did I.

So much for "I'm not a small dog person".

Chester, I'm glad you like the pancreatitis diet. I plan to get some more recipes for you off to your Mom so you can have some variety. I hope I can see you this year, maybe at Christmas - but if you look below you will see something that keeps me from leaving home a lot these days. He's pretty smart and special too, but he's never been a day without his Mom since October 20, 2006, and he was only 10 weeks old then. He needs me a lot, as I do him. But I really hope to see you soon. I know when I look at that beautiful, now older face of yours, the sadness you had to accept and the strength and beauty you embody, too. When your Dad died, and I arrived to stay in what had been his office, more broken and shattered than ever before in my life, you stayed on my bed with me again. You curled up in a little Shiba ball and slept most of the time right beside me, as if you knew that I would be so desparate for a comforting presence. I know you loved him a great deal, and he loved you, believe me. Even when he was at his most sick, and e were all sacred that thinsg wouldn't turn out well, he would say to me from time to time..."I need to gte better...I miss my dog".

He really loved you, as he loved us all.

It breaks my heart to think that you lost him. But, it heals a little when I look at your wonderful face and think of the life you have now. You have the greatest Mom, and you have Robin. And you have Auntie Catherine away across the miles. You've been hurt, and so have we, but in this life we soldier on, because there really is no other choice. Dad is always with us in subtle and powerful ways. I suspect that you, as a dog, understand far more about this than any of my species ever will.

I just wanted to tell you that I think of you often, and with such love. Let's see if we can't get Wayne and Donna to stay with Dan for a few days this Christmas, we'll work up to that -and then you and I can go to the T-Sol.

Now stay out of that garbage can!