We Didn't Know.

Our Chester,

     We didn't know that today would be your last. The last time we would wake up at 5am to walk you, the last time you would whine for your breakfast (or try to steal your sister's), the last time you would ring the bells to go outside, the last time you would kiss us with your wet nose, or snuggle into our shoulder in the way that no other puppy on the planet could. I don't think we would have ever been ready to let you go, but today, I most certainly wasn't. It was too soon. You were too young. 

     But today was also the last horrible seizure that you had to endure. The way they ravaged your body broke our hearts every time. It was your last day to struggle through life on your poor shunted liver. The last bit of stress and anxiety that you had to feel. The last tremors. The last times you had to collapse because you could no longer stand, and your poor bony hips hit the hard floor with a thud for the last time too. The last day of confusion, and trying to shake the fogginess from your head. The last time you had to fall face first into your food bowl...

      Had we known it would be your last, I feel like we would have treated you differently today... Let you sleep in our bed (even if we wouldn't have gotten any sleep), given you steak for breakfast, that kind of stuff. But I know it would have been more for us than for you. I don't think enough of you was even still here to notice. I do hope though, that you knew how very much we loved you Chesterly. We tried to give you the best life possible with all of your physical problems, and did everything we could to help. We hope you loved being a part of our family as much as we loved having you. You understood me in a way very few humans ever have, and we shared so much of the same temperament. You were my perfect match...me, in canine form. And you were always there with willing comfort and empathy. We are thankful for all the joy you brought us - all your spunkiness - especially in your younger years. Nothing made us smile more than watching you have fun!

     I so dearly want to live a life of no regrets, but it's so hard to think that our move may have caused the escalation of your illness. I'm so, so sorry for that my dear boy... I wish we would have taken you on more of the adventures that you loved, but Caroline's carsickness caused us to often leave you both home. I'm sorry for that too. I'm sorry for the times we lost patience and yelled at you in the early mornings. We know now that much of your anxiety these last few years was likely out of your control. I wish we had more pictures of you, of us. The photographer in me will regret that until the day I die. But even with those regrets, and even for all of the pain that I feel today as you took your last breath on earth, I wouldn't have traded having you as our pooch for anything in the world. 

I love you. 

I miss you.

Wait for me at the Rainbow Bridge, k? I can't wait to snuggle you again,

     

                       Your Ma