In April of this year,Pecan Grove Veterinary Hospital and North Kenilworth Veterinary Care accepted essays on how a pet has touched your life or the lives of others. We received numerous entries in this contest, and it has taken more time than we thought for our staff to read them and to pick a winner. Every one of the essays was heartwarming. All of us are truly blessed with the animals that have entered our homes and our lives, and we would like to thank you for sharing your stories. We are grateful that you have entrusted us with the care of your special friends.
Our winning entry comes from Laurel Trosper of Phoenix.
“WHY on earth is there a loaf of bread in the bed?” I asked myself one afternoon soon after arriving home from work. Neatly tucked in under the covers, zip-tied end resting on the pillow, the bread appeared to be quite comfortable and cozy. Next, I wondered if my husband put it there as a prank to test my observation abilities. The correct answer arrived with a nuzzle of a furry muzzle – Chewey, the chow-shepherd mix we had recently adopted from the Arizona Humane Society. A former injured stray, he apparently wasn’t used to regular meals and decided to store something for the future. All I could do was laugh for a few minutes. What a character he was!
Chewey was officially named “Chewbacca” since his long, furry coat strongly resembled a Wookie, and more importantly, something about the sounds made it a name he responded to instantaneously when we were deciding what to call him. He was about 2 when we got him, and for ten years he brought an abundance of joy and love to my life.
Although he was well-behaved, housebroken and calm, the food issue remained with him all his life. The loaf of bread was just the beginning. Several weeks later I sat down on our sofa and heard crunching noises. I got up quickly, but nothing crushed or otherwise destroyed was visible. So I shifted a few pillows, and there was an entire paper-wrapped package of Saltines! Chewey strikes again! We stored the box in our breakfast nook cupboard, a low and easily accessible place for food-seeking dogs. About a month later I found another package of Saltines in a box of material in my sewing room. Again I replaced them in the cabinet, but this time I marked them “Chewey”; the remaining box found a new spot inquisitive jaws and paws couldn’t access. From then on, we would periodically find them in various hidden spots, and when a package was finally too worn we’d replace it with another. He was happy and we enjoyed the momentary giggles when they once again appeared in unusual spots. One of his more obvious caches was the fireplace – while housecleaning one day I was surprised by a full bag of pita bread shoved under an andiron.
Although this endearing habit was usually hilarious, there were a few incidents such as the two pumpkin pies cooling for Thanksgiving which totally disappeared one afternoon, as well as a package of four frozen chicken breasts left to thaw that were never seen again. Another not-so-funny incident involved a very nice, large pork roast that he and I literally had a wrestling match for possession one evening. There were also a few panicky moments such as the one during a routine poop-scooping; I read “Calvin Klein” on white elastic that, on closer inspection, had originally been a part of my husband’s underwear. And, of course, there was the confetti poop incident! Chewey must have had a good eye for color since one sample contained colored nuggets in shades of red, orange and blue punctuated with yellow accents. I was totally mystified until I remembered I had brought home a box of crayons from my school classroom! I thought that was the end of it, but no . . . three days later we had a selection of greens. Our vet opined Chewey had probably hidden those for later consumption.
Chewey was also a great fan of accompanying me to the local landfill. Waiting in line for entry required opened windows for his enjoyment of the numerous smells. But being told to unload inside the transfer station was sheer nirvana for Chewey! Totally thrilled with the dust and odoriferous contents surrounding him, he sniffed delightedly the entire time and seemed disappointed when we finally left.
While a woman at a landfill might be unusual, I never worried because Chewey was always very protective of me. Whenever we had a service person at the house, he made sure to place himself between me and the stranger. One day when my husband and I were working on refurbishing a house, a homeless man entered the front where I was alone and Chewey immediately went into full alert and barred the way, barking in that deep “I mean business” growl he saved for those occasions.
Although I have always had pets, usually cats, Chewey was my first dog as an adult and I think we bonded very closely. I adored him and enjoyed every second I had with him. As he became an elderly dog it was difficult to know someday I would have to say goodbye. When that moment arrived, Chewey was next to me, in our living room with our friend and vet performing this last act of dignity for a beloved friend. I have Chewey’s ashes now, and in the future I will take some with me to the landfill he loved so much. Just not yet . . . it is hard to drive while crying.