Chase

He was a big dog. He weighed 120 pounds and measured 28 inches high at the shoulder. He had a long tongue and really big ears and a super long tail (which he would catch on command), but it was his heart that was the largest part of him.

Yes, he was a big wuss. A crybaby, really. But that is what endeared him to us. That, and his love of peanut butter. He had character, all right.
He kept us safe from marauding bumblebees.

And oh, how he loved the water. He was always happy to help me make sure the sprinklers were working. He would run and stand in front of any spraying sprinkler he found on our walks to get a drink and get his tummy wet. Sometimes he would forget to get a drink, even, just getting soaked was what he wanted. He would race to the percolating ponds in the riverbed just to swim in a wide circle a couple of times before continuing on the walk.

Because of careless breeding he had bad hips, a common ailment of German Shepherd Dogs. His were really bad so we got one of his hips replaced when he was just two. He did okay. He loved to chase rabbits in the riverbed behind us.

After a tussle with a visitor in our hallway earlier this year, he snapped something in his knee. How would he do without his regular walks? Not well. We got him a dog wheelchair so he didn't have to. He took to that quickly and did great for a while.

But this morning it was his kidneys that gave out. He was 39 days from his eleventh birthday.

Chase, I miss you.