It’s still so raw. I’ll be honest with you—there are moments when I’m just walking around my house, going about my day, and I forget. I forget that Chooch isn’t here anymore. It’s been almost a month, and yet my heart still looks for him. I’ll catch myself wondering, “Where’s Chooch at?” like he’s just around the corner, or curled up on the couch. And then it hits me. He’s gone.
Chooch was with me for eight and a half years. That’s a long time, man. He was more than a dog—he was the one constant in this house. Through every season, every struggle, every joy, Chooch was there. And now, without him, the silence feels heavier. The house feels unfamiliar, like it’s missing a soul. Because it is.
Someone on my live recently asked, “Eddie, can you still smell him?” And I broke down. I didn’t expect to, but I did. Because when I close my eyes, I can still smell Choochie Boy. That familiar scent, that comfort—it’s burned into my memory. It’s like my heart won’t let me forget him, even if my mind sometimes tries to pretend he’s still here.
Thank God for this app. Seriously. You guys, the community, you’ve made me smile during the hardest time of my life. Going live has become my therapy. It’s a way to talk through the pain, to feel less alone. You’ve become my grief counselors without even knowing it. And it helps, man. It really helps.
There’s a comfort in knowing I’m not alone. A lot of you out there have lost your soul dogs, too. You’ve shared your stories, your memories, your tears. And that connection, that understanding—it’s everything. Because I don’t always feel like I can talk to my boys about it. I don’t want to hit them up in the group chat and say, “Yo, I miss Chooch again.” I don’t want to be that guy who sounds stuck. But here, with you? You get it. You feel it. You’re dog people. You’re my people.
So, from the bottom of my heart—thank you. Thank you for showing up. Thank you for listening. Thank you for letting me talk about Chooch over and over. Because talking about him keeps him alive in some way. And that means more to me than you’ll ever know.
