Daily Kos

RIP, Chelsea, 1995-2007

Thu Sep 13, 2007 at 02:40:12 PM PDT

My family's beloved golden retriever, Chelsea, passed away this morning at my parents' house after experiencing massive internal organ failure earlier this week. She was 13, an advanced age for a retriever, and the news was not entirely unexpected. Sadly, I have been 2800 miles away from her for the past eight months. While I had previously hoped that she would live long enough for me to see her one last time this December, I'm glad that her suffering was brief and I hope that she's chasing squirrels and rabbits wherever she is now.

The rest of this diary is a remembrance dedicated to her.

I can still remember clear as bell the night that my parents brought her home on a windy January night in 1995. She ran around the house in circles for hours, sniffing everything in sight. In spite of having lived much of her early life on the streets (our vet suspected that she was between 8 and 10 months old when a co-worker of my father found her running along the perimeter of a field parallel to a major street), she proved to be relatively easy to train and grew fiercely loyal. She loved long car rides, apples, carrots, and any other fruit or vegetable she could get her paws on. And she could make friends with anyone, even my uncle who was (and still is) deathly afraid of most dogs.

She had a mischievous side as well. From the time she was a puppy and up until about 2 years ago, she loved to run. I have fond memories of her chasing after rabbits and squirrels near my family's cabin. She never caught a rabbit or squirrel--mainly because her high-pitched squeak alerted potential prey that she was coming--and that was probably for the best. When I was in eighth grade, she once escaped from our back yard and I chased after her on my bike for close to a mile before I finally caught up with her, spraining my ankle in the process. I couldn't be mad at her, though, not after she licked my face as I laid on the sidewalk bleeding and struggling to stand up.

I want to close with a quote from the late Washington Post columnist Mary McGrory that sums up my feelings right now nicely:

Dogs, bless them, operate on the premise that human beings are fragile and require incessant applications of affection and reassurance. The random lick of a hand and the furry chin draped over the instep are calculated to let the shaky owner know that a friend is nearby.

Rest in peace, Chelsea. I'll miss you.

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