Chico

Chico only weighed four pounds, but he was a force to be reckoned with. One misty, foggy morning my husband I were out for our daily early morning walk, and as we came around a corner in the trail we saw a little, cream colored cat walking on the trail. As we got closer we realized it was a dog, a very lonely looking, little, wet dog trudging along. He stopped, and we stopped as we eyed each other. He didn’t struggle when Roger bent over to pick him up. His tag said “Chico”, such a perfect name for a tiny chihuahua like dog. Someone had cared enough to put the tag on so we were sure someone was looking for him. After checking and asking around we saw no one who looked like Chico’s owner. Chico ended up at the Humane Society while they tried to reach his owner. I couldn’t get Chico out of my mind!  I called  the Humane Society every day asking if Chico’s owner had come to get him yet.  I just needed to know that Chico was safe again. While I was at work my husband made the daily call to check on Chico and when I got home I was surprised and so happy to find Chico in our living room. His owner had surrendered him and he was ours.  We were told Chico was probably 10 plus years old and we were determined to give him the best life possible for his remaining years. And we did. 

Chico ruled our house and Roger and I weren’t even ashamed to admit it. We could tuck him in our jackets when he got tired walking, or a big dog was threatening, but he loved to cover a lot of ground in the old stadium field. Soon Chico gained quite the following among the other dog walkers and our neighbors—he was a celebrity. A little guy with a big presence! We almost lost him when the vet discovered a large tumor in his abdominal area and we decided that we  would euthanize him if they found they could not remove the tumor. We waited and agonized, but finally heard from the vet that Chico was going to be ok. We were so relieved and realized how much Chico had stolen our hearts. Before we knew it, Chico was back to taking Roger and I for our walks and all was well in the neighborhood.

Soon he was galloping again. Yes,  Chico didn’t run like a dog, he galloped like a horse, and it was so fun to watch!  When he ran down the sidewalk our neighbors cheered him on. He watched people’s feet with his doggie radar and moved quickly, bouncing around, sidestepping and evading, just like the prize fighter he was.  Nobody stepped on Chico. His doggie bed was the size of a doll bed, but mostly he burrowed under the covers to the bottom of our bed and we had to dig him out in the morning. He was a great traveling companion and took some road trips with us. He liked to hike! I loved to give him a kiss on the top of his head so my lip gloss left him marked with my kiss. What can I say? Chico had me wrapped around his little paw.

But dogs don’t live forever and after a couple of years with us, Chico developed some heart problems. We willed him to keep on fighting, we begged for a few more years. He was tired and his heart was weak. With my lip print on his head he died peacefully in his sleep.  I missed him terribly, but I believed, and still do, that we were so blessed to find each other —it was meant to be. I’ve loved many dogs, but none as fiercely as I loved  Chico.  I cry, and I smile and laugh too, when I remember my little guy, my Chico .