There’s something special about talking to your dog — not in commands or training cues, but real conversations. The kind where you pour your heart out, whisper your secrets, or just ramble about your day. That’s the kind of bond I had with Chooch. She wasn’t just a pet; she was my confidante, my therapist, and my silent supporter with those big, understanding eyes.
I still miss our talks — the ones where I’d ask her if I should quit a job or tell her about someone who annoyed me at the grocery store. She’d tilt her head, wag her tail, and give me a look that said, “You’re doing great.” And honestly, that was all I needed sometimes.
But just because Chooch is no longer here doesn’t mean the conversations stop. Enter CiCi — bright-eyed, goofy, full of beans. She’s got her own personality, her own quirks, and yeah, her own opinions too (usually involving snacks or squirrels). And while she’s not Chooch — because no one ever truly replaces a soul like that — she’s CiCi. And CiCi is something wonderful in her own right.
Now, I find myself having those same little talks with her. I ask if she wants chicken or beef. I tell her about the annoying email I got. I even sing to her, badly, while she looks at me like I’ve completely lost my mind. But she listens. She gets it in her own dog way. She may not respond in words, but she responds with joy, with empathy, with presence.
If you’re not talking to your dog — really talking — you’re missing out on one of the purest friendships you’ll ever know. They don’t judge. They don’t interrupt. They don’t try to fix anything. They just are there. And sometimes, that’s all we really need.
So yes, I miss Chooch, every single day. But loving CiCi and talking with her doesn’t mean forgetting. It means continuing — honoring the bond, passing the torch, and staying open to new joy. Because dogs don’t just hear us — they heal us. One little talk at a time.
