Before I start this post I want to take a moment and say thank you. I lost my Chippy on June 30th. She was hit by a truck. I miss her so badly. She was my girl. My favorite snuggle buddy. My lazy, fat, sidekick who lived for tablescraps and ear scratches. I was thinking, after her passing, how many dogs I had to say goodbye to and the number came to four. Four that lived good long lives before being whisked away to that lovely place of lush green fields, big calm lakes, and plenty of animals to chase around. Daisy May…lived to be roughly 14. Maggie lived to be just over ten. Charlie lived to twelve. Minnie left us at sixteen. Now Chippy is playing with them all – she was six.
I can tell you that my life without a dog is not a life I want to live. Dogs are, what I believe to be, God’s answer to all the crap we have to deal with as humans. Dogs love us no matter what. They live for our happiness. They don’t understand our sadness and loneliness sometimes but they know they can comfort us. Each of my dogs was a comforter and a joy. They were my idea of a perfect soul – nonjudging, loving, caring, and always putting another in front of them. A cat cannot match that. A fish, please. Reptiles, no. Horses, though they can comfort, cannot be the rock that a dog can be.
So when I lost my Chippy my world crumbled. But it wasn’t just my own. My husband fell to pieces. He had to pick her little lifeless body up and in her passing she took a piece of his own heart. My daughter – Chippy’s night night buddy – was lost and begging God to just let her come back. Then there was my son. We could not tell him Chippy had passed. Chippy was his bestie.
I’ve never been the type of person to “replace” lost loved ones. I never really understood it. My dad is a case in point. His dog died and that night he was off to get a new one. I was the girl saying – I have to mourn. I was the judgey one. I questioned people who immediately replaced the lost with something new.
Then, on June 30th, I became the mom whose children lost their pet. I became the mom who could sit with her nine year old and talk it out and cry together. I became the mom who was lost as to what to tell her four year old son. Yes, we all need to know death is a reality but listen….he’s four and the concept of death is not concrete. So those of you who want to throw stones and judge me – go ahead and while you’re at it grow a freaking soul.
My mom picked my son and I up on July 1st. Our Chippy had been laid to rest with Minnie and Charlie. My son was his happy bubbly self! He hadn’t realized he hadn’t seen Chip that morning. We went to see a sweet older lady who happened to have little dog she needed to rehome. If you follow me on Snap/IG then you know where this is going….
The friendship between the dog and my son was instant.
His name was BJ but we changed it to Brady because my husband will forever be 14 mentally….
He is a chihuahua min pin mix. He is closer to two years old. His energy level is about the same as a crack head on speed. I have never met a dog more fond of a tennis ball in my entire life. His days are a total game of fetch and catch me if you can. He loves to cuddle up with my son. He loves to give kisses. He has no clue what the damned four legged animal that sleeps all day upstairs is nor why it likes to slap him with it’s claws.
He loves to run and chase squirrles and birds and his own tail. He likes to get under the covers at night and in the morning be found sleeping on his back with the paws up in the air. He thinks he is a German Shepherd.
I always said I would never have a chihuahua anything. Never is a promise, friends and we cannot afford to lie to ourselves!
Chippy was nothing like this dog and that is a good thing because I could not handle that. This little spunky dude is just what the doctor ordered for a busy family and to heal and move forward. He’s pretty awesome and has stole our hearts.
And I am thankful….thankful for a pretty awesome little replacement dude.
As my son says, “Yeah I think we will keep him.”