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Last month I was graced with the task of taking Chewy for his last car ride to the vet. It was not fun at all. In fact, I’m pretty sure his last moments were filled with discontent for someone who had loved him so much.

Chewy had an interesting beginning. His momma, a black lab,  was one of three dogs that my father took in from one of his acquaintances. I’m not sure if if was a known fact that Puppy-doo was in-tact, but it became apparent a few weeks after the neighbors German Shepard had paid her a visit. When Chewy was about six weeks old he was kicked out of the doghouse. Maybe he was a biter. Maybe he was the runt. I can not recall. But us kids somehow convinced our mom to let us keep him because someone had to love him.

Chewy, or Chewbacca, was the most well-behaved, well trained  dog we ever had. He wanted nothing more than to play - all the damn time. He’d chase balls, rocks, sticks, a frisbee or anything else he could fit into his mouth. Even when he was having trouble seeing and walking, he’d get excited whenever I rolled a tennis ball his way - immediately trying to get up and run for the door. And pats on the head. He loved being pet and hugged and just being talked to. The slightest bit of attention made him so happy, and there was never a shortage of attention for the Chewbug.

He loved car rides, and never took issue with the four-hour rides to Iowa or the cabin up north. Even though he was too fat to climb into the truck himself in later years, whenever any vehicle door was opened, he’d run over and put those two big paws on the running board and look back as if to say “lets go!” I was baffled at his love for car rides since he has such bad luck with cars as a little guy. He was in a terrible accident with myself and my brothers, and also got hit by a car not long after recovering.

He loved unconditionally and never failed to make me feel better if I was having a bad day. I’m really glad that I was able to spend nearly every day with him for the last two years. I think he was too.  No dog will ever take his place or be as special. Losing him was extremely tough because of the special bond we all had with him.  He was our special little guy.

Rest well my friend. I hope you know I was just doing what was best for you.