Footprints

In October last year, I had to say goodbye to Chapo. My first dog. This was a new experience for me. New experiences is what best describes something hard that I know will be difficult. It’s how I twist the perception and try not to set up for failure or hurt.

If you have a pet, you know what it is to have unconditional love. Pets don’t know any other way to love you. If you’ve lost a pet, you know the heavy weight it comes with and you understand the famous quote – they leave footprints on your heart forever.

Chapo he was not an ordinary dog. I know I know, you might say that everyone thinks that about their dog… maybe they do. He did not know he was a dog, he was 89% human so he identified as human and the other 11% was puppy.

Our Chapo, a 130lb Rottweiler, carried all the emotions we couldn’t carry in the last 5 years. He was anxious and had no self preservation. He was so intelligent but often made bad choices. His excitement level was unmatchable. His actions portrayed all the things we carried but didn’t express to the world. He worked hard to be good, but the emotions often had him in a pickle.

When he was a puppy, I was in a divorce and moving houses. I was alone for those few months of packing , he was my friend. I would crack a beer for a break, take a sip and set it down and he would tip it over and then lick it up off the floor.

He loved hard. and so do I.

He acted out when he was overwhelmed. Same.

He was always so excited to see his people. And would bark loudly and guard against those he didn’t know. Same.

He could do every trick we tried to teach him. Always ready to perform for a treat. His focus was incredible. He was a people pleaser or a shapeshifter…… I think – same.

He didn’t alway listen. in fact he only listened when he felt he should, not when we felt it was important. Um…. Same.

He did not heed warnings. He just did what ever he wanted. He once ran through a stubble field that was in full burn and burned his feet. All he could see is where we were, and he was coming to us…. Fuck whatever was in the way. I think I do the same if I need to get to my people.

At my aunties acreage last summer, he tricked us a number of times by waiting until we were occupied and then sneaking off to swim in her lagoon. Fuck sakes. So happy every time even though I was mad, I think he knew we would wash him up and things would always be ok. He was always willing to risk for the rewards.

He ate two couches in his five years….. and too many others things to even count.

He was always there with a full on body wag when he saw me or Andrew. When one of us was not home – he was a bit out of sorts and would always wait at the door on watch til we returned.

On his final walk home he was greeted by my dad. I know this because it immediately started snowing when we got back to our truck. A storm from out of no where. Something to get our attention. And it left quickly too.

When my dad was in the room, you knew it. His energy and laugh was infectious. When we buried my dad 25 years ago on June 1st…. A snowstorm came out of no where. And left just as quickly.

So we know our Chapo is in a better place. He had a good life. He did a great job of being our dog. and he did his part in walking us back to ourselves which is a huge part of walking someone home.

Thank you my friend ❤️ we will miss you.