I find that writing helps me cope with sorrow. And since my life has served me up a massive dump truck of sorrow in the past day, here is a blog post about the source of the sorrow: the departure of one of my best friends: Chinook.
I have blogged about Chinook before but for those just joining into my story, or to be hip, the tl;dr; (meaning of tl;dr; for my mom: too long, didn't read) version will be dropped right here. Chinook was "the best birthday present ever" that I gave to my then girlfriend, now wife, Becky, about 11 and a half years ago.
As Becky put it, our lives as "grown ups" (I chuckle at that term, though I guess I am grown up) have always had Chinook in it. Any dog owner/lover knows, our pets are such a huge part of our lives.. and at many darker points in our journeys, dogs can often be our only source of hope.
Anyhow, that old post sums up a good part of the history of Chinook. But in death, saddly enough, we often discover just how important someone, or in this case, a dog is to our lives.
Last night I held Chinook's big head while he went to sleep, and took his last breath, and through the tears ( I have sobbed so freaking much, and will obviously continue to do so ), and *so many* happy memories I kept realizing I have learned so much from my best buddy Chinook.
So, as an ode to the life of my buddy, my amazingly awesome big ass dog, I want to jot down some of the things he taught me. Because these lessons are gold, and if followed, hopefully I too can live a long life full of hapiness like he did.
Chinook was a big boy. He tipped the scales, that is when he would even lay paw in the dr's office, at over 145lbs. But the beauty of him was he was so gentle and loving for his size. And the only thing that was bigger than his physial size (and massive head) was the love he would pour out on anyone around him.
Love big, love often. Size does matter when it comes to the love you give others.
Another awesome thing Chinook would do was to come up to nearly anyone sitting on a chair or a couch, and sit directly on their feet. This many times resulted in "brown ones" on a pair of socks, but more importnatly, Chinook would then lean into you, and beg for love.
To borrow from the lyrics of an epic 80's song, we all need someone to lean on from time to time. Looking back over my various jobs, and other aspects of my life, I can distinctly point out times where if I simply would have been a 'leaner' like Chinook, the rough road I was traveling on would have been so much smoother.
Surround yourself with people you can saunter up to and lean on... make yourself available for them to lean back on you as well. Just don't leave brown ones.
Even if you are a big dog, life can be freaking scary at times. Chinook was quite possibly the biggest wimp dog ever. Thunder, fireworks, doorways, wind, you name it, Chinook was spooked easily.
Simply put though, life throws some scary stuff at us. Getting married, starting a new job, having kids, and making hard decisions like putting a dog down suck, and are scary. Its okay to be scared, and when scared, find the nearest foot to sit on.
(side note: tonight I was out front of our house, and there were three loud claps of thunder over a five minute span. I was elated. I ran inside and told Becky. I was so happy Chinook didn't hear the thunder and also I thought it was a sign. Call me crazy. I don't care )
Hands down the biggest thing I learned from Chinook, and am still trying to perfect, is living in the now. Chinook was stoked in the moment. He was present whether lounging on the carpet, or chilling in the shade during a hot summer hike.
In the era of pads, smart phones, and the interwebs, we are bombarded with distractions that prevent us from fully living in the moment. I know the times I am happiest are when all that noise is off, and I'm out in nature, living in the present.
He helped me live in the now on a daily basis. Sometimes we would wrestle on the ground, other times we would spoon, whatever it was, we just enjoyed eachother. Living in the moment with those around you, those you love, is such a beautiful thing that we should all practice more often.
But even bigger here is you never know how many moments you will be blessed with from a particular person, or pet. Life is fragile and precious, soak up each opportunity you have with those you love, and savor it.
Chinook was so much more than a dog. And the lessons he taught me and others are much greater than this quick list. The love he gave me was so wonderful, and I miss him very much. So grab someone (human/canine) and hold them tight, and tell them you love them, and remind them of how much they mean to you.
Last week was pretty fantastic. Big dumps. Big nerds. Big sunshine skiing with my girls (pics coming soon).
And this video is me being BIG RAD on mt bachelor in my 1 piece.
All in all a great time. Super cool to meet new friends, and shred the gnar.
5/26
My lovely wife has introduced me to many things over the past 10 years - but after this week, I think the greatest of these is the concept of "Birthday Month".
Everyone loves birthdays, but Becky is especially keen on them. So much so that she likes to spread the celebration much longer than just a day, in fact she likes to observe the date for the entire month.
So here I am, winding down my 35th birthday month, and the past week(ish) has simply been awesome.
A week ago I was shredding pow in B.C. with my good friend Jon, and today, I skiined up my favorite little butte in a blizzard.
Between here and ther my girls threw me a pimpin birthday party (complete with a 35 candle cake), I spoke at Ignite Bend, and got to spend a lovely daddy Friday with my two littlest girls.
So the stoke carried on today over miles of sledneck fash shots, a great little lap down botomless pow, and the first descent of the Sheridan Shelter.
Birthday Month, FTW.
5/22
