The house feels quieter now. The corners that once echoed with the sounds of playful paws and happy barks feel still, almost too still. And CiCi, sweet CiCi, seems to feel it most of all. She lost her big brother, her companion, her partner in every nap and every adventure.
Since Chooch’s passing, CiCi has been searching for comfort in the only way she knows how—by holding onto what remains of him. She curls up on the bed they used to share, resting against the towel that still carries his scent. It’s as if she believes that if she stays close enough, maybe he isn’t really gone. Watching her, with her head lowered and eyes soft with sadness, is heartbreaking and beautiful all at once.
Animals grieve in ways we often underestimate. CiCi doesn’t have the words to say how much she misses her brother, but her actions speak louder than any sentence ever could. She lingers where he once lay, she gazes toward the door as though waiting for him to walk back in, and she clings to his memory in the tender silence of her mourning.
And in truth, we feel the same. The loss of Chooch isn’t just hers—it’s ours too. We miss his presence, his joy, the way he made life brighter with just a wag of his tail. Watching CiCi grieve reminds us how deeply animals love, and how strong the bonds between them truly are.
Poor CiCi girl misses her big bro. She carries her grief openly, showing us that love doesn’t fade when someone is gone. It lingers in blankets, in beds, in memories, and in hearts. Same, CiCi. Same. We miss him too, and together we’ll carry his memory forward—with love, with gratitude, and with the hope that one day, the ache will be softened by the joy of remembering him.
