Chester

This morning, in the gray hours before dawn, – October 13th – my sister took her first solo walk in probably ten years.  There was no prancing tan dog to sniff along the yards’ edges, and no leashes to worry about, and nothing to take her mind off of the chilling wind.

And this afternoon, when Paul gets home from work, there will be no Chester to bark his deep welcome as his hero and champion walks in the door.  Because yesterday, Chester the dog crossed over the rainbow bridge. 

Sarah said in her facebook post: Rip sweet Chester. The sweetest, most loving dog. We were blessed to have so many years with you xox we will miss you. Even though he was not my dog, he lived right down the street and I saw him often.  In fact, he was my therapy dog, completely certified and licensed. He was very free and accurate with his advise and consolation. Often just a few minutes with Chester was better than any other treatment I could be offered.

But now, he is running free through the meadows, chasing Oscar the cat (who had gone on before…) and lapping water from fresh, cool streams, and not having to worry about skunks or marauding deer in the neighborhood.

Something you may not realize, however, is that when he came to live at Seneca Drive as a puppy, the family decided that he looked exactly like Chester A Arthur, our 21st US President.  And he was well named.  Just like Chester A Arthur, our Chester offered professional services (Chester A was a lawyer).  Chester A struggled to overcome a negative reputation (our Chester ate piano benches, door frames, howled mercilessly at fire sirens and thunderstorms, and broke through metal cages).  Unlike Chester A, though, who was described as ‘the most forgotten US President’, our Chester will not soon be forgotten. 

So in the days ahead, while the heart heals and the house feels empty and lonely; when there is no dog food to buy or no little piles to clean up in the front yard; when no one howls a greeting at the door or curls up at the foot of the bed — just remember that the love of a pet assures that he never really dies.  He lives forever in the hearts and minds of those he touched. 

RIP, Chester