Often I separate my childhood into two time frames, there was during Chester, and then there was after. Chester was our family lab that lived to be seventeen years old.
Just finished watching the movie, Marley and Me with my dad (over pizza- how American of us!) .. our “Marley,” was a birthday gift my mom gave my dad on their second wedding anniversary. While my parents joke that I’m the eldest, they always remind me I was indeed, not their first “child”.
Chester didn’t stir quite the raucous the infamous Marley did to the Grogan family, however he is licking one of the Jornayvaz faces in the majority of our Christmas cards, slept in all of our beds at some point, and kept us all awake all night while roaming the neighborhoods on more than one occasion. Our home was several blocks from a morning bakery, and everyone knew Chester by name… we’d often find him hanging out with the bakers, who fed him fresh bread regularly.
When I was about eleven, so Chester would have been thirteen years old – he disappeared. That afternoon we weren’t worried, but once night arrived, it was terrible. It was several days after New Years, and so the city was full of fireworks; it was freezing outside. The following week was miserable.... posters, newspaper ads, rewards, and daily calls to every animal shelter. Even though my dad complained about Chester’s need for 2am trips to the backyard, it was my sensible and linear dad, who never gave up hope. He called Boulder and Vail, weeks after us kids we accepted that Chester was gone, my dad kept searching even when the odds were simply, against us.
My parents were strict when it came to bedtime. My little sister and I shared a bedroom. It was late on a school night, in early February. My mom and dad rushed in together and woke us up. This was a first. My four-year-old brother was already trailing behind my father, having heard the commotion. My dad scooped up all three children in our pajamas, and told us quietly to climb into the minivan. He told us we had a visitor.
Twenty minutes later we arrived at a fenced yard. An older man wandered outside. We were all confused, who was he? But following him was a yellow lab. It was Chester…. I’ve never been more excited or relieved or awed to see his smiling eyes, but when I saw him familiar face, I realized I wasn’t surprised… like any lab, Chester was incredibly loyal. The three kids slept in my parents’ bed with Chester that night. I think my parents stayed awake until sunrise, talking in the living room over coffee, peaceful knowing their happy family had been pieced back together.
It was several years later when each Jornayvaz child held onto one of Chester’s paws, my mom by his tail, my dad knelt by his face. We sat on the floor of the veterinary hospital in silence as Chester was put down. It was the first, and last time I’ve ever seen my Dad cry.
Dogs do that to people…. Dogs have the ability to make people feel, make them feel needed. It’s amazing how friends and family attempt to make us feel needed for years and years, but dogs can make you feel worthy of it in seconds.
It’s the classic American story – every young couple finds that “dog” to be their starter child…. But thinking back, I believe every dog chooses to find his or her own starter family.
