I wasn’t planning on adding another dog to the pack.

This first picture is the first picture I ever saw of you. I wasn't planning on adding another dog to the pack...and another puppy, at that. I already had 3, and Levi was still a puppy himself. But.... there was something about you. Something I couldn't explain. It was like I was being drawn to you.

You were with a rescue in Mississippi and needed a home. I kept circling back to your picture over the course of a few weeks. Then, I inquired. I couldn't help myself. Everyone thought I was crazy.... but... there was just something about you. I was being pulled to you in such a peculiar way.

Feb. 17th, 2012 is when you and I first met.

The picture of me holding you is when you'd just come off transport. You'd made the long trek from Mississippi to Virginia, and I'd met your transport off of Highway 81 in a Cracker Barrel parking lot.

You were 4 mo's of age, and had been neutered at 13 weeks of age. Ridiculously early, and I knew the ramifications this would likely have down the road; so I spent your life doing all I could to try and compensate for this.

I had some Cherokee Indian name chosen for you... I can't recall what it was now, but it had some kind of special meaning. When I saw you march off the truck with your tail held high, looking up at the guy with a big smile on your face, and that signature pep in your step.... that prance you always had ("Chippie toes", I called it), I said to myself, "oh my God... he looks like a little chocolate chip!" ...and, from that moment on, you were known as "Chip".

We rented a cabin for the weekend in the Shenandoah Mountains to break up the drive back home. You were so full of life... and instantly brought the energy of the pack to a different level. You were just.... FUN. You immediately acclimated and made yourself at home. It was almost like you'd always been there.

We spent the great majority of your earlier years on the trails. Every single day... some of my most treasured memories.

It wasn't long before I discovered you were part fish... you absolutely *loooved* the water. So we always hiked spots that included a water element. One for cooling off when needed, and two- so you could get a swim in.

I still haven't heard from you. I've been going to bed early every night hoping to... hoping you'll visit. Hoping you'll send some kind of sign that you're okay. That you were warmly received. That maybe Tucker and Lobo were there waiting for you...

I don't know how to cope with this pain. Everything is so completely different now. We had such a special bond, my boy, and you were such a gift.

Should I have just let Nature take its course and continued doing all I could to keep you comfortable? Just kept trying to numb the discomfort from the lymphoma?

I made the mistake of calling your name when I was leashing up the dogs yesterday morning for our pack walk. Raiyna immediately perked up and started frantically looking around for you. Back and forth, back and forth. It broke my heart, and I could do nothing but stand there and cry.

I feel so broken and lost without you, my boy. Home, "family", life... all feels so incomplete now. My heart feels incomplete. When you left us, you took a huge part of my soul with you.

I hope to hear from you soon....