The past few months have been hard for me; I've been very sad, in a funk, depressed watching Chaps rapidly age. Thankfully Jack was blissfully unaware of Chaps' health issues and treated Chaps with the same love and gusto as he did for younger Chaps. Margaret Renkl wrote a beautiful essay on "The Pain of Loving Old Dogs," and Chaps, like her Clark, keep exceeding his life expectancy that you get this crazy idea in your head that your pet is going to out live you. Jack, and Bobby and I too, thought Chaps would be around for many more years.
But then the inevitable happens, the dog starts to lose all bladder and bowel control, and you know it's time to say goodbye. Saying goodbye to your beloved pet is hard, but then having to explain to your four old that the dog is dying, well that was one of the worst talks of my life (worse than when my mom tried to talk to me about birth control). And you have to be direct with a four year old. You can't say the dog is sick and the dog is going to sleep, because then the four year old might think that if they get sick or go to sleep that they're going to die.
After we explained death and Chaps dying to Jack, he did seem to grasp that it meant Chaps won't be living in our house anymore. And just when you think your child is at peace, Jack will ask where Chaps is or cry that he wants to pugs (our other dog isn't a pug, but I guess we use the term pug so much that he must think all dogs are pugs). We have a nice framed photo of Chaps at age 6, with his goofy tongue hanging out, and now it's in Jack's room so that Jack knows Chaps is always with him (us) in memory.
For Bobby and I, it's the memories of having a pug stand between you and the cabinets as you cook or prepare food, knowing that if you drop food, you'll actually have to clean it up since there's no longer a pug to immediately in hale it (the other dog doesn't really care if bacon is frying up in the pan; she's odd, but love her anyway). It's not have a pug stick his nose into the bathroom while you brush your teeth and then again wedge himself in between you and a cabinet. In hopes of toothpaste falling, I guess? Or laying on your foot while you watch a baking show, and the foot starts to numb, but for some silly reason you don't want to move it, because distributing the pug seems rude.
No more pug to scatter Legos everywhere as he defiantly charges through the toys. No more pug to push the sneeze button. No more pug to embarrass you in front of friends and family as he's getting too friendly with someone's leg. No more pug to wonder into the garage and get stuck out there cause you didn't notice that he followed you. No more pug to trip you as you stumble down the hallway to feed him. No more pug to make your pillow, to hug and hold when your sad or happy.
I miss him terribly, and I know Bobby and Jack do too. I've owned a quite a few pets now in my life, but I think Chaps was the kindest, sweetest pet I've ever had. We love you so much Chaps, and you leave us so many funny and happy memories. We hope after crossing the rainbow bridge, that you're getting all the treats and cuddles you desire. Peace be with you sweet pug.
