We said goodbye to Chocolate Chunk, our CC girl, last week. For days, we were in shock. I think we’re still in shock. We echoed the same sentiment over and over: She’s gone. I can’t believe she’s gone. She was 11 years old.
Today, I want to celebrate the dog that she was – the matriarch of our family, an instrumental part of our family unit. She was the peacemaker, the caregiver, the lover. She sat like a human, outstretched legs, floppy belly and all. Her Pittie grin had the capability to take on Grinch-like qualities (you know, like when his heart grew three sizes?). She made a dog lover out of those who swore they don’t love dogs. She made everyone – everyone! – smile.
How CC got her name
After an exhaustive search looking for an adopted sibling for Jack, a friend texted us the bio for a pup named Trea. She said, this is Jack’s dog. Trea had been with a foster family for a long while, had even been adopted (and returned!), and was looking for a forever home. The first line of her description on the adoption landing page read:
You’re going to fall in love with this sweet chocolate chunk!
We set up a meet-and-greet with Trea and Jack the next day. And unlike all the other potential dogs that Jack sniffed, shrugged and walked away from, he pounced! Jack and Trea ran in circles, lapped at each others’ bellies, nose-bumped and, eventually, collapsed into a puppy pile. Jack chose Trea. Trea chose Jack. We saw that they could barely contain their love, and we signed those adoption papers on the spot. We told Trea, welcome to our family, you sweet chocolate chunk! And then, CC came home with us.
That was 6 years ago.
We feel so lucky that Jack chose CC, that we had 6 years of joy and laughter with CC, but more importantly, that Jack and CC had each other. They were bonded from the start, and Jack was the only dog that CC ever loved. We learned that quickly; no other dog held her attention or received her affection. She only had eyes for her big brother. Together, they were a duo of breed ambassadors to be reckoned with.
CC Fun Facts
- Her nickname was any variation of ‘Mom’. As in, Momma CC, Mommers, Mommy. (We very rarely called her CC!)
- CC was a cancer survivor. Her long tail was amputated after a suspicious group of cells were discovered during a check-up. Her nubby bottom suited her well, don’t you think?
- She reminded everyone of something. She was a potato, a Tootsie Roll, a piglet. Lucy would see a hippo at the zoo, point and giggle. It’s CC, mommy!
- She never greeted a visitor by jumping on them, instead choosing to charm them with her wiggly nub and a snort.
- Every evening, we read a bedtime story to Lucy – and CC.
Our girl can never be replaced. There are holes in our hearts that need time to heal and a numbness that is only beginning to subside. She radiated warmth, and I crave the feeling of her soft ears, wet nose and pink tummy. Lucy is aware that she is missing, and she’s slowly starting to understand that she won’t be back. She says, CC is sleeping with Jackie now.
Her last night with us, we had piled onto the couch, business as usual. Scott and I joked that she was being extra snuggly, burrowing deeper into the blanket, peeking her head up only to get a better sniff of my drink, or to give us a lazy wink. That same night, we awoke to the sound of her last breaths. We hugged her and cried and hugged her again and cried some more. We feel peace in knowing it was painless, in knowing her own broken heart has healed, in knowing she’s with Jack again.
Goodnight, Mommers. We’ll love you always.