The life of a dog named Chewy

Let me tell you how we came to be Chewy's family.  It actually starts with a quite tragic story.  We had a minature schnauzer named Rosco.  He was about six months old, when we traveled to Gillette, Wyoming to spend Christmas at my parents house.  We had gotten him for free when he was 8 weeks old.  On the trip to my parents house he was violently sick in the car, a lot.  He didn't get better once we arrived.  We end up at my parents vet with him it was so bad, long story short, some how he had been poisoned with antifreeze and we ended up putting him to sleep on Christmas day.  Yeah that was horrible, but nothing like the loss of Chewy.

So we return to Casper after Christmas and Dan is on the hunt for a new dog.  Free was our budget and we wanted a puppy since the girls were little.  It is January now, and we finally see a listing for a australian shepard, chow mix puppy for free.  I call the number and the lady asks a bunch of questions. I explain why we are looking for a new puppy, and she says we should come and meet him.  She lives way out in the country.  Grandma Frances, with the girls and I drive out to her house.  Of course when we see him I know he is coming home with us.  He was about 10 pounds and all fluff.  He was adorable.  She tells us that she had gotten him for her brother who is an over the road truck driver but when he saw him he knew he was going to be to big to be a truckers dog.  He had named him Coal, because he was jet black.  We were happy to take him home.

He was a smart dog and learned things pretty quickly.  He was so good and patient with the girls.  Letting them pull on him, carry him precariously, giving him rides in their toy shopping basket.  Of course he did outgrow that.  We changed his name to Chewy, for no real reason.

He grew and grew and got fluffier.  Each May we would take him to the groomer to be shaved so he wouldn't be so hot.  When we moved to Las Vegas we took him 4 times a year.  He loved to ride in the car.  He loved camping because we could let him wander off the leash, and he could chase a rabbit or two.  He was very protective of us.  He like to sleep near us.

The one thing he got in trouble the most for was eating the bread!  It did not matter how far back on the counter I put the bread, before he got older, he would figure out how to get it.  Bread, tortillas, rolls, this boy had a love of carbs.  He didn't even care that he was going to get in trouble.  We of course started putting it in a cabinet, but accidently forget to put it away and it would be gone by morning.  He also loved popcorn.  On Sundays we usually just eat popcorn for dinner, instead of a big meal.   He would impatiently sit and wait for us to start throwing him pieces.  He loved his popcorn too.

He barked every time the doorbell rang, and usually quiet viscously.  Everyone that knew us got use to this when they came over and knew he wasn't serious, but I always acted like he was if it was someone I didn't know at the door.  He was a great guard dog.

At our first house he used to sleep in the basement.  At our second house he never even went into the basement, no matter how much we coaxed him.  For 6 years he would wait at the top of the stairs for us to finish watching tv.  My cousin thinks it's because our house was haunted, which it may have been but the ghosts never bothered us.  I think it was because there was Radon gas in the basement and we didn't know it until we moved out, but I think Chewy knew.  In Las Vegas he slept at the top of the stairs usually, or next to my side of the bed.  He would stay downstairs until the last girl had gone up for bed and then he would come up and wander the rooms making sure everyone was where they were supposed to be.

He loved his treats.  We couldn't even say the T word if he was around.  If we did he would bug you until he got one.  Everyday when Shelblyn would come home from school she would give him one.  She would pretend to forget and he would come over and sit on her feet or bump into her if she was standing somewhere.  Then she would ask him what he wanted and he would push her to the laundry room door.  He was trained to take the treat nice and go to his bed to eat it.  Spoiled.  There was a reason he weighed 85 pounds...we spoiled him rotten.

He was an awesome dog.  Even when I hated him for shedding all over my house, eating the bread, AGAIN, or barking for no reason.  I love that darn dog.  He was a true friend, and I miss him and the sound of his tags jingling on his collar.