I remember the day we met. My brother brought his new full breed black labrador puppy to the mall where I worked. I picked her up with both hands, looked into her perfect brown eyes, and said “thanks for the dog, boogie”. I remember him screaming and telling me that he paid $350 for this dog and went to a farm to pick her out. Chloe was the runt of the litter, the last to leave her Mom. She was found cuddling with her dog mom and he decided she was perfect. Yes, she was. Perfect for me.
He worked long hours and I had plenty of time to train our new family member. I remember walking her up and down the drive with treats in my hand yelling “heel”, and she did, every time. I then trained her to sit in the back seat of my car, to sit, roll over, lay down, but Chloe didn’t “speak” for nearly a year. She was a perfect girl.
When she was about 7 months old, she escaped with my other dog who always got out and ran away. The other dog came home, but my little Chloe was missing for 4 long days. I cried each day, and drove and walked around the neighborhood around the clock searching. I eventually gave up, figuring that someone made her their new perfect family pet, until I received a phone call at 2:30AM from my Dad that he drove past the house, and Chloe was sitting on the sidewalk staring at my house. I was never more relieved in my life. I continued to train her, but I never let her out of my sight again.
I remember so many great things that my hammy got to do that not many other dogs were privileged to do. She went to college with me twice, she went to many rehearsals at the Oakland and The Rust Belt Theater, she traveled to Virginia,Chicago, and Michigan several times. She stayed with me at Kenni’s, my brother’s, Auntie Mel’s, Uncle Rob’s, my Sister’s, and she visited many other friends throughout her days. She was in the first Youngstown Christmas Parade in the “Oakland Float” (my car), and walked faithfully with me near Lanterman’s Mill and in Boardman Park. She loved to play frisbee, but mostly I think she just loved to go through the drive thru’s where many people greeted her with a small doggie cone and an ice water. Even the ladies at my bank gave hammy a treat every single visit.
She consoled me when I was sad, she celebrated when we were happy, and she spooned me in my bed or on my couch every day. Hammy preferred to sleep on my bed with her head laid across my neck! She couldn’t seem to get close enough to her people mama.
Hammy didn’t bark often, but I taught her to pray. It took nearly a year to get her to bark, but I taught her to “give a woo woo” and shout “A-Men”! And she was always happy to get wound up and give me a bark. One recent time when she was thirsty she barked, only I couldn’t figure out what she wanted, she went to the bathroom door, sighed, and proceeded to attempt to get water. She always had a way of telling me exactly what she wanted. She ate toast every single morning. She didn’t like regular dog treats and would snub us if we tried to give them to her. When she was mad at me, she would sit in front of me on the floor and stare in the other direction, giving me the silent treatment.
Hammy went to church every October to be blessed, but I was the one who was blessed. I had a best friend who cuddled me even when I wasn’t deserving. I had a companion who loved my company.
In her last few months, she remained a faithful companion even though she had trouble with her back legs. She still wanted to come to bed at night, and to cuddle on the couch. She loved Rached and decided that he would be her person too. She had him trained to let her out when he got home every night.
On her last day on Earth, I received a call from my sister that hammy wasn’t breathing right. I was afraid to make the decision to put her down because I felt that she would go on her own. When I returned home, she was on her seat on the couch and for the first time all day she lifted her head to see me. I went to her and told her I loved her, that she was a good girl, and held her face with both hands. I kissed her nose, and a few moments later she took her last breath.
Goodbye sweet ham, a part of me died today too.
