- had to be an adult
- had to be male
- had to be fully trained
- had to a boxer or a bulldog (not sure how she was going to run with a bulldog)
- had to be free
She agreed and I figured I was safe. I believed my terms and conditions were stringent enough, that we would absolutely continue to be a family without a dog...
"Nick, come look at this," she called the very next day. I went into our office and there on the computer screen was a beautiful beast of a boxer. "We're going to see him this afternoon at 2," she said. I've been hosed; at least, that's what I kept thinking. And my suspicions seemed to have been confirmed as our 'going to see him' turned into 'bringing him home' that very day. And just like that, Chance became a part of the family.
Quickly, her running partner turned into my study buddy. But, after a run-in with a St. Bernard on a jog,
their running didn't happen as much...but every time I'd come home from class or work and sit down to read, ole Chance would curl up onto the couch and place his head on my lap and rest while I read about theories of atonement and different expressions of ecclesiology. He was not even the slightest interested what I was reading...he was just happy to lay next to me. That was his thing really. He just wanted to be with us. We'd come home and he'd bounce around the living room wagging his little nub of a tail that sent his body into this funky little shake that made us laugh. He'd throw his full weight into my legs, almost knocking me over, while I'd pet him and scratch behind his ears. Sometimes, when he was really in the mood, he'd jump up and wrap his front paws around my hips to give me some kind of hug. We'd play tug-of-war all the time; it was our favorite game. He wasn't much of a fetching dog, but he would give me one heck of a work out as we tugged on his rope together.
When it came time to leave Kansas City and make our way to Portland, we wondered how he would handle the 30 hour, 3 day move. The answer...like-a-boss. The dude climbed up into the U-haul, placed his head on my lap and killed it the entire way. Turns out, taking a car ride was something the big guy loved. Just the word 'ride' would send him into his hip shaking, tail wagging excited dance. In fact, whenever he'd take off and run out the front door and through the neighborhood, no treat would bring him home...only the prospects of hopping in the car and going for a ride would bring him back.
Once the kids came on the scene, he'd still play tug-of-war but there was a very clear difference on how he would yank with me and with the boys. He was very cautious and gentle with the kids. They loved it. They wanted him to play fetch so bad, but still not really his thing. He wanted to play tug of war with the ball...but the kiddos weren't sticking their hands into his mouth to grab the ball out. Whenever I'd lay on the floor with the kids, he'd lay right down next to us, making sure his body was touching somebodies...he loved being with us. After a while we didn't play tug of war as much, but whenever I'd sit in the office he would come and lay on the office floor whether his bed was there or not.
As the years passed and he got older, he slept a lot more, but one thing never changed. Whenever we would come home, he would still be looking out the window waiting for us. He would still do the hip-shaking, tail-wagging bouncy dance whenever anyone came over or we would come home. And he loved nothing more than to lay next to us, on our lap or by our feet. I'd have to pick him up to get him in the car, but he would still look out the window for a minute before curling up on the seat to enjoy the ride.
So this morning, it was hard. Watching him breathe his last here at home, where he would have wanted to be, was painful. I didn't think it would affect me as much...but man. This was hard. I was thankful to be petting him as he passed, but picking him up to take him to the vet reduced me to a blubbering mess. Our kids reacted in age-appropriate ways, as my wife states. Mia couldn't figure out why everyone was crying, Eli wanted to see his bones...and then asked when he was coming back, and Dom broke down and cried in my lap with me.
They've already asked if we were going to get another dog, and of course the real answer is who knows...but one thing is for sure; there will never be a more loyal, happy, perfect dog for me and our family than Chance. I'll miss ya, you big ox, RIP.
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