Though this space wasn’t intended as a memorial to my pets, this week, that’s what it will be. We lost Chaser on Thursday, and it just seems fitting to devote a post to her. (Besides, this is my Substack–I can break the rules if I want to, right?).
We’ll be back to regularly scheduled Be the Dog next week (which, as it turns out, is also mostly about Chaser).
In the meantime, I’ll wish you all a lovely holiday season and a happy new year. I hope you spend time with those you love–human or otherwise. And be sure to hug them a little tighter and let them know what they mean to you. They will be gone all too soon.
We said our final goodbyes to our darling Chaser girl this past week. At just three months shy of her 16th birthday, she had a long and (mostly) healthy life. And even though she was basically a canine centenarian, it still struck me how short dogs’ lives are. It never feels like we have had enough time with them.
Chaser was, truly, one of the sweetest dogs I’ve ever known. Always gentle, reserved, deferential and just naturally aware and considerate of others. She was never trained to “let the human go first” through a door or at the stairs; she just knew, naturally, to stand back and wait her turn.
She could snatch a liver treat from your hand so softly and deftly that you barely knew she’d taken it. And while she loved her food, she ate it delicately, like a Victorian lady well-versed in etiquette. Slow, methodical, she got it done without rushing or slobbering (the way–ahem–certain other dogs Zoey in this house Zoey might do).
I used to joke it was the German Shepherd in her that caused her to eat with such extreme efficiency. She’d lick a bowl entirely from the top down to the bottom, or left to right, in perfect order, leaving no spot untouched.
Chaser loved to move more than anything. As a tiny pup who’d been with us less than a week, she leapt from the top steps of our deck (around six feet above ground) directly onto the grass without flinching. She appeared a little surprised on impact, but then shook herself off and continued romping.
She enjoyed nothing more than leaping to catch a Frisbee, gliding through the air on her way. This love of activity stayed with her for life. Even in her last week, as we had to help her down the stairs with an improvised sling around her haunches, she attempted to leap from the second-last stair to the landing.
When she was around ten, we found a wonderful agility teacher who was willing to take an elderly dog with no experience. Chaser thrived and loved every second of it.
She bonded so firmly with her teacher and assistant, in fact, that we immediately thought of them when we wanted to give Chaser a positive emotional boost before the end. Even after four years away from her last class, her handlers both agreed immediately to a visit. We drove the 90-minute trek to the location and within minutes, Chaser was attempting jumps again. I think it brought her great happiness in her last days.
I’ll leave you with these images and video of her at agility, one when she was younger and one from this week.
We’ll miss our sweet, soulful girl. I hope she’s found peace wherever she is, and I hope she knows she was well loved. I like to think that she’s reunited with her older sister, Elsie, and that they’re romping somewhere together once again.
See you all next time with a fresh story. As always, thanks for reading.
In Memory of Chaser
I know Chaser and Elsie are romping together amongst all of our fur family members. There truly is never enough time with their pure hearts.
I’m so sorry that your dear friend and family is gone Ricki. She knows she was dearly loved.
My condolences. Dogs are our ancient friends; they know us and we know them. They are truly family.