RIP Chispa, 1991-2007

An hour ago we had our beloved Chispa put to sleep. She was 16, and for the past 6 months she's progressively lost her ability to walk, a neurological problem of unknown origin according to the vet (tests found nothing wrong). Prednisone kept her going for quite a while, but a few times she's gotten stranded in a corner of the yard, unable to get up and get to water, and when I found her she was a dehydrated mess. The past week has been especially hard. I double dosed her on the prednisone for the last two days just to see if she could at least get around, but it didn't make much difference--the water bucket was too high for her so I had to make sure she had everything in a low dish, and I had to prop her up because she often didn't have the strength to hold her head up. For the past few days I also fed her her favorite things, steak and pork ribs and longaniza. Her appetite was still good, at least for human food--she didn't care for dog food any more.

The vet said it was for the better. Clearly, dying at home was going to be slow and painful. They injected her in the leg with an overdose of phenobarbitol and death came a few seconds later. I had trouble leaving her there; I stayed petting her and crying for a while.

So, here are my memories of Chispa:

Noble, intelligent--everyone used to say the expression in her eyes was almost human. She learned all her commands by hand signal. For many years she loved to sneak up onto the bed or couch. She aways wanted to be at my feet. I remember how I taught her to climb a ladder when my husband and I were doing construction in Mendocino. She could climb all the way up an aluminum extension ladder to the roof, and she'd get up there to be with me while I was framing!

Teaching her to swim was so fun. She was so interested in the water, but had no idea how to begin. I started teaching her in the fountain for the Raiders headquarters in Harbor Bay business park in Alameda (when they first developed that place we used to go down and skate or ride bikes with the dogs). I'd wade out a little bit, holding her, and let her legs touch the water as she started paddling instinctively. Then one day, she spied an apple floating in the water, and took off swimming toward it, fetched it and brought it back. She always loved to swim after that--no walk was complete without swimming in the frigid bay, or a lake or pond somewhere. She loved fetching but I never did manage to teach her to bring the ball back all the way to me.

She made me pretty angry a few times, too. She loved to chew--she frequently demolished bricks and cans in her youth, and she ate all my leather shoes and destroyed most of the electrical cords in her first year. She killed two of my chickens, and I was so angry I didn't talk to her for a few days. I found them out in the coop, which I had left open because she'd never shown interest in them before, cold and legs up in the air. The two remaining hens got smart and learned to fly up to the power line in the back yard and perch there.

Poor girl, she took moving down in household status as we had a child and other dogs with equanimity--although I remember bringing home our second dog, Soleil, and they played all day until evening, when Chispa looked at me as if to say, "OK, that was fun, now take her away." Unlike our other dogs, she was totally unagressive, though she wasn't passive either. She simply got along with every dog. Never had a fight. When my son was born she was so excited, sniffing under the door for days until we finally let the dogs meet him. From that point on, she slept under his crib. How she tolerated my son as a toddler--he used to ride her and sit on her.

I love you Chispa and I miss you.