Friday nights always held a special kind of magic in our home. It wasn’t just because it marked the end of a busy week or the beginning of the weekend—it was because Friday meant pizza night. And for King Chooch, our beloved pup, pizza night was the highlight of his royal reign.
Chooch had a love that was simple yet unforgettable: pizza crusts. He never cared for the toppings or the gooey cheese, but the crusts—oh, those were his treasure. As soon as the pizza box was opened, he’d trot into the room, eyes bright, tail wagging, and sit like the perfect gentleman, waiting for his share of the feast. One by one, as slices disappeared, the crusts would find their way to his paws, and his joy would fill the room like laughter.
It became a tradition, something we all looked forward to. Pizza Crust Friday wasn’t complete until King Chooch had claimed his royal share. He’d munch happily, then curl up with a satisfied sigh, as if saying, “This is the good life.”
Now that Chooch has crossed the rainbow bridge, the tradition continues—not in sadness, but in love. Every Friday, we set aside a crust in his honor. Sometimes it sits on the counter, sometimes by his favorite spot on the couch, a quiet reminder that though he’s no longer here physically, his spirit lingers in the little rituals we hold dear.
Some might wonder why a dog and a pizza crust matter so much. But those who knew Chooch understand. It wasn’t about the crust—it was about the joy, the patience, the way he reminded us to cherish simple pleasures. His presence turned ordinary Fridays into something special, something sacred.
So here’s to King Chooch, forever the ruler of Pizza Crust Friday. May every bite remind us that love, loyalty, and joy live on long after the last slice is gone. Happy Pizza Crust Friday, sweet boy—you will always be remembered. ❤️🍕
