Thinking of Chewie

Mother's Day, 2006, Danny bought me a dog.  The children were 2, 4, 5, 6 and 15.  I remember thinking, "What kind of man would buy a woman with 5 children a dog?".  I had had a boxer once before and Danny knew how very much I had loved him.  And so Chewbacca (Chewie) had become a part of our family that Mother's Day.

Like most boxers, Chewie was full of energy.   He ran and played and loved on the kids.  He had a hard time realizing that he was not a human.  I think he struggled a little with who was the alpha male in the house, him or Danny and he was very, very protective of the kids.  If we would raise our voice, he was right there sticking his nose in it, making sure there was nothing wrong.  If you were rough housing with Samuel (the youngest) he would become very serious and let you know that he was there.

Chewie was not allowed on the furniture....unless we weren't there.  Then somehow, the rules changed.  I'll never forget the first time I caught him on the couch.  I'm sure I said something like, "What are you doing on there?" and I'm sure he hung his head and got down...quietly...slowly...disappointed that he had been caught.  But that would never happen again.  He was much to sly for that.  Only problem was, he would forget to wipe the cushions down.  There was always hair and paw-prints.

Chewie was never a destructive dog.  We never had any issues with him tearing stuff up...except my shoes.  But that only happened when he was a puppy.  Yes, within a few weeks, he had destroyed several pairs of my shoes.  And ONLY mine.  There were other shoes to choose from, but I believe he had a point to make and somehow that point involved me.  He even went out of his way one time to search my shoes out in my bedroom.  But those days soon passed.

Chewie did not beg.  He did not get scraps from the table.  He was not allowed in the dining room while the family ate and when dinner was through, he would wait patiently while I cleaned everything up.  It was funny how he would just sit watching me.  He generally always had a full bowl of dog food, but he would wait.  And if at some point he decided that he wasn't going to get any left-overs, he would go eat.  But occasionally Chewie would get something.  Which reminds me of why he probably seemed to love Samuel the most.  It could be that he is the youngest and the smallest, but I think that it is because Samuel is the one who would always, ALWAYS, drop food on the floor.  Chewie soon learned that if he followed that youngest one around, there would be something for him in his wake.  Chewie was also a big part of my morning lunch packing routine.  Samuel (the youngest, of course) did not like the crust on his bread.  So, like a good mother should, I would cut his crust off of his sandwich before packing it.  Chewie ALWAYS got the crust.  In fact, just this year, I finally convinced Samuel that his life would not end if he ate the crust and Chewie started getting the bread 'ends' or a piece of stale bread...or sometimes, just a piece of bread.  It just seemed right.  I had to give him a piece of bread when I packed lunches.

Well, let me cut to the chase of this story, because I could probably go on and on about the 'life of Chewie'.  Sunday, a week ago tomorrow, Chewie went to live with a very good friend of Cameron's.  A boy who spent most of Chewie's puppyhood at my home.  A boy whom I consider family.  TJ (that boy) came and picked Chewie up.  Chewie left pretty willingly.  Chewie loves TJ, so I am sure that it didn't seem too off that he was getting in his car and driving away.  But Chewie had known for several weeks that change was in the air.  In fact, that morning, Chewie seemed to follow me around a little more than usual.  He seemed to stare at me just a little harder.  (I have to stop and tell you that I am balling my eyes out right now.  Something that I had not done yet.  Something that I suspected this writing would bring out.  Something that I am not comfortable with and don't have time for.)  But Chewie loaded up and headed off and went to TJ's.  Everything seemed to go very smoothly.  Then Danny and I were in our bedroom, just down the hall from the boy's bedroom, and Danny caught the slightest sound of sobbing.  Dear, sweet Jacob was in his room, hiding behind his iPad, trying not to let the world know that his heart was breaking...something that I had not expected.  So I did my best to comfort him and later that evening Jacob and I drove over to Chewie's house and took him some toys that we had forgotten to send.  Jacob cried some more when we left.  I tried to explain to him how it would be more difficult on Chewie to travel with us.  He would constantly have to be left alone and always having to adjust to a new place.  Jacob seemed to understand.  Jacob has a big heart.  Since then, we have visited Chewie a few more times.  He is always happy to see us, but he seems to have settled in quite well.  There is a big plus to Chewie's new living arrangements, my oldest son is also living there and there is a very familiar couch in the living room.  (I wouldn't doubt if Chewie doesn't climb up on it when no one is home.)

And our house... our house has been different.  There is no barking when the doorbell rings (even when it is just the doorbell on a TV show).  And when I'm packing lunches, I don't know what to do with the ends of the bread.  But I miss him most when I walk in the door.  He isn't there to greet me.  It seems strange, this silent house.  But all of that will change.  Today we move out.  Today is the beginning of a new life.  A different life...one full of constant change and adventure.  And, on the road, we will keep in touch.  We will know how Chewie is doing.  And when we are in town, we will visit.