My pot of honey.

I am not sure I can write this post. My girl Cheyenne went home on Friday, July 31, after 14 and a half years of being part of my life.

The universe put us together. I had actually picked another puppy from the litter, and when it was time to pick her up there had been a mistake - someone else had taken home #10, and there was giant, enormous #13 waiting for me. She was the absolute worst puppy - willful, strong, and naughty. Even in her puppy obedience class, the instructor could not get her to submit.

Somehow, with Ryan's help, she morphed from a beastly sweet tank of a puppy into the most intelligent, wise, and well-mannered dog.






She diggyed the heck out of frisbees, aggressively clawed and gripped your arm by shaking when she wanted attention, and could drill a hole into you with her stare. She yelped with insane sounds of pure joy when you threw a ball for her outside, and was the champ at catching those balls even on the highest throws. Cheyenne would stay by my side any time I was sick, or Ryan wasn't home. She was the best protector. She was also so sweet. She loved Adelaide so much. She was so gentle. Once Adelaide was only a few days old, and laying on my bed, and Cheyenne jumped up to lay next to her, and terrified me. I realized she was being SO careful.

She was Adelaide's sibling and play buddy.

 

I can't count the number of laps they ran around the house together:
https://www.youtube.com/watch?v=-PmGnI1GVfM#t=12

There will never be another Cheyenne. She moved with me through 7 different addresses, guarded me during my pregnancy, and protected Adelaide like her own child. She patiently endured two other puppies coming into her life, and then loved them as part of her pack.

Cheyenne smelled like powder. She had ears like velvet, and a big tinkin bone on top of her head. I loved to nose-to-nose with her and kiss the sweet space between her eyes.

The angriest I have ever been with Cheyenne was after a weird Summer with hail storms where I had nursed a tomato plant back to health twice and it was just about to bear fruit... I look outside and all of the tomatoes were gone! There is Cheyenne, with tomato juice absolutely all over her face. 

The last 6 months or so had gotten hard for Cheyenne. Her back legs stopped cooperating, she was having trouble getting outside to potty, and she was becoming dehydrated. Her blood work was great, and her heart was strong. But, her body was getting old. Still, I would come home to her wagging her tail, even trying to jumpy-jumpy. She was happy to eat, and play with her toys. I frequently reminded Ryan she was immortal.

When we got Dakota, as a puppy she would try to nurse from Cheyenne's pink belly, and Cheyenne in all her sweet enduring patience would look at me with eyes saying, "Mom, help me out here." On Wednesday I came home and immediately saw that same look in her eyes. I saw her asking for help. 

Through the help of friends like Krista, a lot of help from Ryan, and the reminder I needed from Jenna that it was time, we decided to make the decision to save her dignity. I came across an article reminding me, a day too soon is better than a week too late. The thought of waiting for something worse to happen, or for Adelaide to have to witness a horrible end, was not fair to anyone. My love was blinding me to the burden she had been carrying, and that we had been carrying - Ryan literally carrying her up and down stairs every day. 

Our last day together, I cuddled and spoiled Cheyenne. I fed her every tomato off my plant. She told Ryan and I over and over again that she was happy. We cheerfully told her about the La-la we were going to get her, and soon she would be her 80lb tank of bricks self again in heaven.

We stayed with her, loving her, and sending her off so quickly and peacefully. She wagged her tail at the end, and I gave her every drop of gratitude I have for her love all of these years.

Adelaide has been amazingly understanding. She has been comforting me, telling me it is okay to be sad, and reminding me Cheyenne is in a better place. She built a memorial to Cheyenne in Minecraft, and has a funeral planning after we get Cheyenne's ashes back. Adelaide ordered a sign that says, "Because someone we love is in heaven, there is a little but of heaven in our hearts."

Cheyenne fills a space in my heart, but the gap she leaves in my life will never be filled. I love you, Chy-Dizzle, my spunky, plucky, stubborn, wise and soulful friend.