RIP Cheney

It is always good to have a boxer around, they will let you know that your problems are not that important, but petting them is. Especially that one spot, just under my right shoulder . . . . .

Life is simple for a goofball boxer. Here, let me put my paws up on your chest and explain it to you. Just pet me, give me a marro bone, and I will let you in on the secret. The secret is getting pet a lot, more marro bones helps.

Now, let me lick your face, your problems will seem much less important. I can either jump up and lick it, put my paws on your chest and lick it, wait for you to get a little closer then dart in and lick it, or, if you would be so kind, just bend down a little bit.

I clearly did not poop in your backyard, that was another boxer. I am not sure which one, but if you pet me and give me a marro bone, I will tell you which one. That was only one marro bone . . .

Be careful, there is a cat over there, I will take care of it for you if you would like me to. If not, I will continue to stare at it, so it knows it is being watched and should not try anything catlike.

If the squirrel would like to eat Sam's food, that is fine, because it is not a cat, possum or chihuahua, and, it is not my food.

What would Cheney do (WWCD)? Bounce, wag the happiness indicator, flash the brown eyes, try to lick your face and let you pet her. And accept a marro bone. Or three.

Today, I took Cheney (documented criminal, cloaked wonder, devil dog, terror of cats, possums and chihuahuas) to the vet for the very last time. She has had a history of stomach problems and has lost a lot of weight in the past month. She wasn't keeping any food down, could barely make it through a short walk, and was very wobbly getting around. Up to the end, her happiness indicator was tinking away.

When they did an ultra-sound on her, she had a 6-8 inch blockage in her intestine, probably caused by her earlier problems (blanketectomy and twisted stomach), that blockage was not allowing her to digest food properly. There was a surgery option, but when the vet explained it to me, it didn't seem like it was a guarantee, and she may not fully recover.

Cheney was not my dog to begin with. A friend of mine adopted her from a family that had 3 cats, 2 kids, a deploying dad, and not enough time for a hyper-sweet, high energy boxer. When we went to pick her up, she just boxer-bounced (all four legs, straight up to your face so she can lick it) around the yard, licked everyone's face and spread boxer-joy around.

She hung out with Sam and just stayed around. Always happy to see anyone that walked out the back door, happiness-indicator (her stub of a tail) in full approval mode. When my friend moved out of the house, Cheney was left behind. Because she had the backyard dug up just the way she wanted it, I let her stay to take care of the cat and possum problems in the neighborhood in Fayetteville. She and Sam kept the backyard free of cats, possums, and chihuahuas.

Boxers are very stubborn, I could never get her to sit fully, and she would not shake my hand for anything. The closest I could get was a fake Cheney sit, where she would almost sit, her boxer-butt would be centimeters off the ground, but never touching. This of course would be enough to earn her a treat, which was what was important.

She stuck with me for 9 years, made sure I remembered that whatever my problems are, they were not as important as petting her. If my problems were really bad, she would give a soulful stare with her brown eyes, and lick my face. She and Sam chased PTSD monster away, a lot.

I am very sad that she isn't here. I hope she can find Chip in doggy heaven and wait patiently (as patiently as a boxer can wait) for me to show up and pet her and lick my face. My heart hurts, and is a little broken.


Her death hurts me a lot. Chip wandered away and I didn't have to confront his death. I was just sad for a long time, because I was never really sure what happened to him. Cheney's death is up close and personal (boxers are like that), in every way, shape and form.

I shouldn't feel this way, there are many people on earth that don't get fed the food of their choice twice a day, have a house and a blanket, but this still sucks.

I know my fan club reads this, if you call me up or talk to me, please don't talk about this for a while.

Not feeling very Green Beret-like today.