They say never buy a dog from a pet store, especially a pet store in a mall. They come from puppy mills, and you can’t really trust them. They are wrong. Whoever “milled” this puppy did the best job ever. We purchased Chester from a mall pet store 14 years ago. It’s one of the best things we’ve ever done. We lucked out when we chose Chester or did he choose us? The deal was that he got a loving family with two adoring boys, an older sibling dog – Holly, two doting parents and a house in the country with a big yard to run and play in. What more could a dog ask for? But we got the better end of this deal. We got Chester.
We were looking for a playmate companion for our yellow lab, Holly. She deserved to have a pal to hang out with. The local mall had a pet store and we decided to start our search there. We ended up looking nowhere else. My wife grew up with a black lab. I grew up with a dachshund. We walked into the pet store and saw this adorable black and tan, long-haired dachshund pup. The boys fell in love with him immediately, of course. My wife, not so much. She was not familiar with the breed and not sure a small dog would be a good match with our 85-pound lab. We went back to the store a second time with Holly in tow to see if the two would get along with each other. They did.
The next evening, my wife surprised me and said let’s go get that dog. She had fallen in love with him. It was late and we all jumped in the car and rode to the mall. We were heartbroken. The dog was gone. We asked the manager about him and he said the dog had been transferred to another mall pet store in New York. Oh no! The mall in New York was closed for the evening. We rushed to the mall the next morning and there he was. As soon as he saw us, he got so excited. He somehow knew we were there for him. He knew we were his new family.
We named him Chester because of the tan fur on his chest. Chester adapted to our family without a hiccup. Dachshunds are known for having outsized personalities and Chester lived up to every bit of that reputation and surpassed it. He didn’t know how small he was. I think he thought he was a German Shepherd or Doberman Pincher or a Lab. We never told him he wasn’t. On his first vet appointment, the vet informed us that he was a miniature Dachshund. His papers didn’t indicate that he was a miniature. Other than his size (10-12 lbs for most of his life), there was nothing miniature about him.
Chester loved to swim and chase tennis balls like a lab. Our sweet yellow lab, Holly, didn’t like the water or like chasing tennis balls. Chester never tired of chasing those balls. One night a dinner guest began tossing tennis balls with Chester. We told him he’d be Chester’s friend for life for doing that. About 15 minutes and 50 ball tosses later he asked us, “When does he get tired?”. We laughed.
Chester was adventurous and would test the boundaries of the invisible fence. He knew when he wasn’t wearing his fence collar and would venture slightly into the woods tracking some intriguing scent or the trail of a squirrel. But he always came right back. He was never too far out of our sight.
For such a little dog he sure had a good appetite. He seemed to never tire of eating. One time my wife was hosting a ladies’ luncheon. She had prepared a large platter of shrimp cocktail for her hungry guests. Turns out they weren’t as hungry as Chester. She left the scrumptious platter on the living room coffee table and went to attend to other things before the ladies arrived. When she returned to the living room, guess who treated himself to that delicious shrimp? Another time, Chester jumped up on a chair and then onto the kitchen table to help himself to my youngest son’s birthday cake. I forget what we ended up celebrating his birthday with. He slowly graduated from only eating dog food to a mixture of dog food and our food and then many times to only our food. He sure was a good beggar whenever he saw us eating anything. It sure was fun to feed him. It was fun to do anything with him. I wish I still could. I guess we were partially responsible for Chester ballooning from 12 pounds to 16 pounds. We plead guilty. And he enjoyed every minute of that weight gain.
But he did his fair share of exercise. He went on many a long walk with us. He loved to go on walks, mostly without a leash. He liked to feel independent, although he was totally dependent on us for everything. Due to his age, he hasn’t been able to go on walks for the last couple of years but he still adventured in the yard daily. He wasn’t going to let a little arthritis and advanced years hold him back. He was such a trooper.
Chester loved Christmas. Like the rest of the family, of course he had his own stocking hanging on the fireplace mantle. He received a new toy each Christmas and he knew it. As the boys opened up their presents, Chester would be right there sniffing every package in anxious anticipation of his gift. His was always the last one opened. It was so much fun to watch how excited he would get. He received bones, balls and many squeaky toys over the years and he loved every one of them. The squeaking toys didn’t usually last long. He was a good chewer even with some teeth missing. This past Christmas he received a pink, squeaky pig which he just loved. He guarded it like it was his baby, until it couldn’t squeak any more.
I think God sends us pets, especially dogs, for a purpose. He provides them to us to bring joy and happiness into our lives. They demonstrate God’s perfect love for us. Chester’s love for us was unconditional and perfect. He was perfect. No matter what we did, he loved us. He just wanted to be our friend. He was our best friend. Chester was a purposeful dog. He was focused. He didn’t do things randomly. His purpose was to love us, and boy did he ever. Great job, Chester! You’re a good boy.
Chester passed away this week comfortably and peacefully in the only home he had ever known, with his family right there by his side gently and tearfully talking to him, petting him, and comforting him. There’s such a pain in me now. I’m surprised by how saddened I am. He won over my heart, stole it and then took a piece of it with him and gave the rest back to me. He took that piece with him, and I’ll never get it back. To love is to hurt. I loved him so much, so I hurt so much. They say time heals all wounds. It hasn’t helped yet. It still hurts. This is the toughest column I’ve ever had to write. Like the Tin Man said, now I know I have a heart, because it’s breaking.
Chester was fun. He was rambunctious. He was loyal. Chester was smart, happy, and focused. He was a great watchdog. He was an adult and a puppy at the same time. Chester was positive. He was tough, yet gentle with us. Chester was playful and full of energy. Chester was curious. He was cute and handsome. Chester was a handful. Chester was no trouble at all. Chester was perfect. Chester was a truly great dog. But mostly, Chester was Love.
We love you, Chester. We miss you. We’ll always miss you.
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Like you and many others, I have had the privilege of loving fur-kids and know the intense pain when they cross that rainbow bridge. We lost both of our Shih-Tzu babies in the middle of the pandemic, which made a difficult situation much worse. Teddy was Judi’s dog and Bear was my dog. We still miss them terribly! I can honestly say that I have never felt such pain and loss as when I had to say goodbye to my Bear-Bear. I can barely see to type this for the tears.
Thanks Dean. I know every dog lover has the best dog because they ARE the best. I know I didn’t, but I feel like I lost a son. Sad. I’m man enough to admit I was looking through wet eyes to finish this column. Hoping that “time heals all wounds” stuff starts to kick in. Thanks again.
Condolences my friend!
We have had several four footed fur covered kids in our family, and while they didn’t leave to go to college, or join the army, they were every bit as smart and devoted as our human kids, and it hurts greatly to lose them.
Take consolation in the knowledge that Chester had a great life because your family loved him!
Thanks for being a good friend, Bill. You’re right, a great life for a great dog. He deserved it. They don’t live long enough. Peace, brother.
I have a Chester, too. He is almost ten years old. I got him, along with a sister pup, and named her Winnie, and him Chester. I got them from a man at a gun store, from an ad he placed in a gun forum, and Winchester seemed to fit. Those two little babies are my love. They are a mix of Lab and Pitt, one of each. They are walking and barking unconditional love. They both are, but my Chester is the one who is always looking for me. When I go to the store, or anywhere, he waits at the door for my return. What those two give me, each and every day, there is no way I can repay them for, and I guarantee I will miss them, as you do your Chester. I’m sorry for your loss.
There is a heaven for those bundles of love. You know he is there.
Thanks Mark. These dogs do something to us. Something good. We need it. As much as they depend on us, we need them more than they need us. Keep hugging and kissing them. They sure don’t last long enough. All the best!