I miss my Chooch more than I could ever express in words. Every day without him feels like a piece of my heart is missing. He wasn’t just a dog—he was family, my constant companion, my source of comfort and laughter. Chooch had this amazing way of making everything feel okay, just by being there. Whether it was a bad day or a celebration, he was always by my side with those gentle eyes and that big, goofy grin.
The silence in the house is deafening now. I used to wake up to the sound of his paws tapping excitedly on the floor, eager to start the day. Now, the mornings feel empty. I find myself looking toward the door, half-expecting him to come running in with his tail wagging like crazy. It’s in those little moments—the ones we often take for granted—that I feel his absence the most.
Chooch had a way of making everyone feel loved. He didn’t care who you were or what kind of day you were having—if you needed love, he was there to give it, unconditionally. He helped me through some of the darkest chapters of my life. When I felt lost, he anchored me. When I cried, he would rest his head on my lap as if to say, “I’m here. You’re not alone.”
Even now, I still feel him with me in small ways. Sometimes I hear a sound and for a second, my heart leaps, thinking it’s him. I see his favorite toy in the corner, untouched and gathering dust, and the tears come without warning. Grief is strange like that—it creeps up when you least expect it. But it’s also a reminder of just how deeply we loved and were loved in return.
I miss the way he looked at me, like I was his whole world. And truly, he was mine. I know he’s still with me, somehow—watching over me, still offering his quiet strength. The pain of losing him is sharp, but the love he left behind is stronger. That love will never fade.
I miss you, Chooch. Thank you for every moment, every memory, every tail wag, and every snuggle. You’ll always be my good boy, and I’ll carry you in my heart for the rest of my days.
