Time is funny…

Time is funny. I'm looking at all of these pictures, and... it all seems like yesterday. Where did all this time go?!?

The missing is fierce. It's, quite honestly, one of the single most difficult things I've had to endure. You were everything good, pure, light, and love, Chip. You were the embodiment of joy in a soft, dark chocolate coat.... I deeply miss burying my face in it. Nuzzling up to you. You were always such a comfort, and vice versa.

I miss falling asleep with you right beside me. I miss you being the first thing I'd see when I opened my eyes in the morning. You had the funniest sleeping poses, too, and this sweet barely-audible snore. You'd sleep on your back, arms and legs stretched out. Your little overbite would show.

I miss coming home to your "rallying the troops" and barks of celebration. You'd alert the rest of the house (and the neighborhood) I was home as soon as I pulled into the court (how you always knew is beyond me). You'd be the first one to greet me at the door; then we'd go upstairs so I could change into my comfy "house pants". You'd follow me up, leap onto the bed, and do this spinning thing. You'd spin (with Franklin and/or Raiyna hot on your heels), bury your face in the covers, spin, bury your face in the covers..... That spinning thing you did was always so funny. When we were on our hikes and you all started a game of chase, you knew you couldn't outrun Levi or Raiyna.... so you came up with another tactic. Spinning. You could outspin anyone, and it'd always throw them off. You'd run as fast as you could, then - when one of them caught up to you- you'd spin your little heart out. It always made me laugh~

There are some pictures in here of Brian taking you to the children's playground... you used to love going down the slide. You'd slide down, and -when you reached the bottom- you'd jump off and make a made dash towards me.

There's another picture in here of you receiving a chiropractic treatment from Dr. Verna... the look on your face is priceless. You were putty in her hands.

"Life" is so very different without you here. And although we're taking solace in one another and treasuring our moments together even more (take. nothing. for. granted.), we can't help but notice the massive void.... this big space you took up---- and left behind. You're so deeply loved, Chip. So, so deeply loved. And cherished.

I'm starting to ease my way back into work again. A bit difficult, but I do consider myself fortunate that this "work" is also work of meaning and substance. Helping and being of service to others has always proven to smooth over the sharp edges of struggle, pain, and hardship.

We welcome a Rottweiler pup into the boarding school program in a few weeks. That'll surely raise the energy level in the home. It's been some time since we've had a toddler in the house. I've given the Mini Pack Leaders a heads up already and they're ready to rock. It was always an "all hands on deck" thing.

I'm in the process of creating a donation-based program in your honor to offer education, training, and information (IBAC's, online coursework, books, training) to those in need but who (legitimately) cannot afford it. I'm calling it "Chip's Legacy Fund", and I do hope we'll be able to touch more lives this way (on both ends of the leash).

We love you so much, Chip... and miss you more than words, barks, and howls can say. I'll never forget you walking out the front door for the last time.... Levi was standing at the top of the landing steps watching. Wide-eyed. All the ridges in his brow. Mouth closed. I don't know how to explain it....it was a look of perplexment..... and it's an expression that will be forever stamped in my mind. When we were getting into the Jeep, I heard him start howling and bellowing in a way that was different than normal.... the others chiming in.

There will never, ever be another like you. You're so sorely missed, Chip. It just hurts. All this really, really, *really* hurts.