I keep watching that last video over and over. The way Chooch’s tail wagged with excitement… you’d never know anything was wrong. He looked so full of life, just like always—bright eyes, happy hops, full of love. It’s haunting now. How could he have been sick? How could I have not known?
I dropped him off thinking I’d be back in just a few days and we’d go right back to our usual routine—walks, belly rubs, snuggles on the couch. I had no idea that would be the last time I saw him like that. If I had known… I would have canceled the trip. I would have held him tighter. Given him more treats. Let him sleep in my bed instead of his. Anything to have had more time.
It’s taken me a long time just to scroll through the old videos and pictures. Every frame feels like a punch to the heart. There’s so much joy in those moments, and now they’re all I have left. I’m sitting here in tears, watching my boy wag his tail, unaware that our time together was nearly over. I wish I could’ve done more. I wish I’d seen the signs. But I didn’t. And that guilt is something I’ll probably carry with me for a long, long time.
Chooch was more than a dog. He was family. My shadow. My best friend. He was there for everything—good days, bad days, heartbreak, celebration. Always steady, always loving, always Chooch. He never asked for anything but love, and he gave it ten times over.
There will never be another dog like him. He had a way of making every day brighter just by being in it. Even strangers felt it—he had that magic. I was lucky enough to be with him his whole life, from his first steps to his final tail wags. And now I’ll miss him for the rest of mine.
It hurts more than I can say, but I’m also grateful. Grateful for every walk, every nudge, every goofy bark, every quiet moment lying side by side. Thank you, Chooch, for choosing me, for loving me unconditionally, for being everything I didn’t even know I needed. You were my heart.
Love you forever, Chooch.
