For the first time in 11 years I came home to silence.

For the first time in 11 years I came home to silence.

Before we left, I put away your collars and leashes.

Washed the bed sheets we all slept on last night.

Moved your bottles of CBD/ THC out of sight.

I vacuumed the whole house in an effort to pick up any lingering strands of chocolate fur before we left.

This is all so surreal, my Chip. I cannot believe that you're gone. I just can't. I feel like I'm in a horrible nightmare that I can't wake up from.

You were/ are such a huge part of who I am. What's been built. The work I do. You've been such an amazing source of support, comfort, ease, inspiration, and also my greatest joy, my boy. You with your goofy personality. How you lifted the energy in any room instantaneously. Your insatiable drive to learn new things, do things... anything, and "perform". You loved it. You craved it.

You started refusing treats, snacks, and all your meals. Food in every form. I emptied my entire kitchen trying to find something appealing for you.... but I knew what would work. Nosework. You loved Nosework, excelled at it, and lived for it. This morning, you only ate through what you found doing Nosework. It was the only way I could get something into your system.

Your collar had become so loose around your neck. I could feel every vertebrae down your spine. The bones in your head. Although you hadn't been eating, you looked pregnant. The cancer was taking your beautiful dark cocoa body completely over. I pray rescue groups will rethink neutering and spaying puppies so ridiculously early in life.... I hope and I pray. You were just 13 weeks of age when they did that to you, and - despite my best efforts- it wasn't enough to give you a fuller life beyond 11 years. I do like to think we thwarted something that could've happened sooner, though.

You lived a totally clean life. *Bare minimum* vaccinations (zero since puppyhood). Zero flea and tick preventatives. Zero heartworm preventatives. Clean, raw food from respectfully and ethically raised animals. Filtered water. Tons of fresh air, hikes, daily walks....

The vet was shocked you'd last so long with lymphoma. Dogs typically last 2 - 3 months. You soldiered on and lived fully (until the last month plus) for nearly 11 mo's. Eleven. Months.

We fought for this and fought for it hard, didn't we, buddy. We were both holding on so tightly....

I'm so grateful we didn't have to do this alone.... 2 of our beloved Mini Pack Leaders in Training wanted to be there with us. Josh and Brian. Such special, special kids. You were always so happy to see them.... all the dogs always are. The Mini Pack Leaders would always fight over "who got to walk Chip"... Brian always won. You and Brian had a special bond, as did you and Josh. I really don't know what I wouldn't done had they not been there.

I brought the super plush blanket we scored from a Christmas exchange game when we were in Mississippi for Christmas 3 years ago. You loved that blanket. We all watched as you succumbed to the sedation and laid. I was laying beside you. Your head resting on my arm. My other arm draped over you. Hugging and holding onto you as tightly as I could. In between sobs, I was kissing your face and telling you how much I love you. How much you've meant to me. What a treasure you've been. And I kept repeating... as if in a trance... "please come back to me".... "please make your way back to me".... "please come back to me"....Everyone was in tears. The assistant. Josh. Brian. Myself. The vet was even teary-eyed. The beauty and the depth that was our bond was more than apparent. There was a moment I felt a rush of electricity move through my body. I asked the vet if you were gone....he confirmed you'd left your body.

You made such a huge impact while you were here, my love. I can't imagine life without you. The house is eerily quiet ... even with 4 other dogs (...even Franklin, who is surprisingly subdued).

I'm sitting here looking around.... and it doesn't feel like "home" anymore. It just doesn't.

It's a little after 4 pm, and we normally have "deeener" underway. We started feeding around 4 so we could space out your CBD/THC dosing. ... I suppose we'll maintain this. Everyone's antsy and staring at me expecting something.

I hope to hear from you again soon, Chip. When Tucker and Lobo passed, I got clear signs they were still with me. Lobo with the random spray-painted word "Lobo" across the sidewalk Tucker and I were walking on (?!), Tucker's silhouette standing on the bed when the electricity went out due to a storm one night (I had candles burning), Tucker picking up a hawk feather on the trails after an "animal psychic" told me we'd start seeing more feathers on our hikes as a sign from Lobo (and I had, jokingly, told Tucker and Raiyna to pick one up if they saw one.... and Tucker did). The "Love You" photo is a photo that popped up in my Apple memories today... I like to think this was a sign from you. I did see some numbered signs (1:11 on the clock, 999999 on a license plate) after leaving your precious little body behind at the crematorium... but I'm hoping to see or feel you more.

You were SUCH a huge part of my life my boy... such a huge part of me. You were a partner to me in every way a dog could be, and I just cannot believe you are gone. This is so fucking surreal.

This morning I was thinking, "this is the last time I'll be taking you out to pee"... "this is the last time I'll look over and see you lying there"... "this is the last time I'll ________" and fill in the blank with .... everything.

So, I came home today to silence. Your "alarm" I can only hear in my mind now.

You always knew whenever I was turning into the court, regardless of how long I may have been gone; and you had this uncanny way of knowing when I was close to home. You'd sound the alarm, everyone would chime in in celebration, and you were always the first to greet me at the door. (I've checked this with neighbors... they said it's always quiet in the house---- until my Jeep turns into the court)

I don't even know if I'll be able to sleep in my bed tonight. You've slept on the pillow right beside me for the last 11 years.

Life is not the same anymore. Our pack, our home is not the same anymore. While I understand "change is good" and "we've got to release in order to allow".... "same" was good with us. Our same ol', same ol' was wonderful.

You were always around me (and I get you'll always be around me now, but.... it's just not the same). In every branding photograph, the great majority of them you were somewhere in the background. You followed me everywhere ... not in a clingy, needy, obsessive way, but in a "we're-two-peas-in-a-pod" and super connected kind of way. We really, really were.

Whenever the dogs went out back for relief and would come in, you'd wait until everyone was in then do this circle-around-loop-back-to-where-mom-is-standing thing before we would move together to head upstairs. Every single time.

....and your beautiful signature Chippie ears. One started standing up on its own when you were around 5 years old... then the other one joined it when you were around 8. I always wondered why they waited so long.... guess they were kinda' like your momma. The quintessential late bloomer. They came around in their own time. I'll so miss rubbing and kissing the tips of them....

Now that it's mealtime.... what about the ritual you and Raiyna always had?? You always had this "mealtime understanding." (All the dogs eat in their individual spots around the middle floor of the house) Whenever you'd finish your food, you'd go perch yourself on the bottom step of the stairwell, wait for her to finish, and when she walked away- you'd give each other "the look" in passing, and you'd head down to lick anything she left behind. This has been an every day ritual for you two ever since I can remember.

Life is just going to be really difficult for some time. Getting used to this Chip-less existence.... I don't know how I'm going to do it. I just don't know. I don't know how to live a life where you don't exist. My teeth are chattering and I can't stop shaking... though I'm not cold.

I will miss you every moment, every day, my sweet boy. Thank you for 11 years of joy, light, deep love and connection, and just for being the amazing little being that was you. There will never be another like you.

I can't believe you're gone. I just can't believe you're gone......