R.I.P. Cha-Cha

Cha-Cha, 2000-2013

Cha-Cha was born on the streets of San Juan in August, 2000, and for the first 4 months his grasp on life was tenuous.  He was in a dog pound and was probably just a few days from execution when he was rescued by SATO who flew him north to the Sterling Animal Shelter in Sterling, Massachusetts.  They cleaned him up, got him healthy, gave him his first shots and generally prepared him for adoption.

We met him there in January, 2001.  He was sitting demurely in a corner pen, quietly watching us and looking very much like the homeless waif he was.  It took me all of 2 seconds to look into his eyes and recognize the intelligence, gentleness and loyalty that lay within.  “I want HIM” is what I told Jett and within an hour he was ours.

He was my dog from the beginning, just as Grace (who we also adopted that day) was Jett’s.  He was playful and feisty in his puppyhood, but matured into a gentle and loving companion.  “Cha-Cha” is short for “Muchacho” and he was, in his younger years, as mischievous as the name suggests.

Sharing the sofa with Dad

On the bunkhouse bed in the RV

He spent his first 5 years with us in Somerville, patrolling our small, fenced-in corner lot in an urban neighborhood, greeting passers-by and barking at other dogs.  The next 7 years were spent in Medford, in a much larger house with a much larger yard which, in truth, we bought because the dogs needed more room to run around.

This past year, as you know, he traveled with us across the country.  He visited 19 states and tasted the mist of the Pacific.  He took a dip in Lake Havasu and rode the golf cart around the RV park in Aguanga, CA. Not bad for a homeless waif from Puerto Rico.

On the road, in the back seat of the truck

Wading in Lake Havasu

Riding the golf cart

The 19 states seen by Cha-Cha

For the first 11 years his health was nearly perfect.  He and Grace used the yard in Medford well, racing around it, chasing each other (or, more specifically, Cha-Cha chasing Grace).  They loved the yard. In the winter they would frolic in the snow and in the summer Cha-Cha would bask in the sun, either on the deck or in the shade along the fence.

His problems started about two years ago.  Arthritis appeared and he could no longer jump up onto the bed.  His developed dental problems and suffered through two oral surgeries, the second of which almost killed him.  A large fatty growth appeared on his side.  His eyes clouded and his sight became very limited.  Even small exertions resulted in panting – a sure sign of congestive heart failure.

And his tail didn’t wag much anymore.

It became apparent that his teeth and his legs were constantly painful.  Getting in and out of the RV became an ordeal.  He started to limp and sometimes stumbled.  It was painful for us to watch him try to stand up.

It was time.

He leaves the rest of his grieving pack: his adoptive parents and his stepsister who is wondering when her lifelong friend and companion will return.

Sorry, Grace, but he is not coming back.  He is gone.

But not forgotten.