Posted in dog blog, golden+retriever

R.I.P. Chauncey Woofka

My big brother died yesterday. I was outside, and I heard the mailman come, and he started to bark. I came in to help him, and Tuckler was barking too. And then something happened, and I don’t know what it was.

All I know is Paunnie was on the floor, just laying there. Mommis came out of her bedroom to see if it really was the mailman, she got the mail, and then she realized there was something strange about the way Paunnie was laying on the floor. She called his name, and he groaned to say good-bye. And then his eyes opened and he was gone.

She freaked. She started trying to call people, and then she ran across the street and got Carolyn. We kept quiet, so she could act.

Then everybody started coming to the house: Carolyn, Linda, Uncle Ed, and Max.

Mommis laid on the floor with Paunnie crying. Then she went and got one of the duvet covers he really liked to sleep on, and Ed and Carolyn lifted him with it and put him in the car.

And then they took him away and I never will see him again.

He was only 81/2.

But he did have aortic stenosis. Mommis said so.

But he seemed so fine. He ran, he fetched, he ate. He taught me when to bark and how to stay off Mommis’ bed so he could sleep there. He was Mommis’ main man.

Today I am mopa. I am hanging out at the house, and Mommis is having a procession of dog and humam visitors. Bluey came over. Uncle Dan threw balls, but Paunnie wasn’t there to fetch with him. Uncle Dan seemed sad, too. And we’ve seen a lot of Auntie Carolyn and Max, who usually keeps Tuckler home on Sundays.

When everyone left last night, I was lonely. Mommis wanted me to sleep on her bed, so I got up there for a while. But I need my space, so I left in the middle of the night for my spot on the floor, and then I gravitated to my own bed, where she found me in the morning. She spent the night streaming “The Gillmor Gang” on her iPad. We used to be on one of Steve Gillmor’s shows; Newsgang Live. Our job was to bark.

Paunnie wasn’t there to wake us up and remind her to feed us. She did it anyway. And then she took us to the park. Luckily, Pam was there with Wrigley, and the man with the great remote truck. I ran my ass off. I thought if I worked out enough, I could forget my grief.

But then I went home, and it was so quiet in the house. I’m just not Chauncey. I’m more Zen, and less frantic. I hope she loves me for who I am. Auntie Belle says Camp Fluppy Puppy will miss Paunnie. But won’t it miss me? I’m back in Phoenix.

I hope she finds me a little brother. It will suck if I’m alone.

One thought on “R.I.P. Chauncey Woofka

  1. I am so sorry to hear about your loss, Buppy, and Francine! I cried when I read this. 😦

    Hopefully Santa will bring you a little brother.

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