Monday afternoon on the way home from school. "Mommy, Santa needs to bring Chip something for Christmas. He needs some doggy toys."
Sure, he may technically belong to my parents and live with my Dad in San Antonio, but just try convincing that little boy Chip isn't HIS dog. He just removes the complexity of explaining that Chip is actually Pawpaw and Mawmaw's dog and he gets to visit and walk him from time to time. No no, HIS dog.
He brought home papers and crafts around Thanksgiving with lists of items he's thankful for: Mommy, Daddy, fire trucks, my dog.
Chip passed away last Saturday, December 10th. He was 14 years old. He was the sweetest, most pampered and loved-on dog I've ever met. He was part of our family in every sense, and – to Colt – he had become a critical part of any Pawpaw/Mawmaw visit. Quite the dog walker, this kid.
And I have no idea how I'm supposed to handle it when we get to my parents' house this weekend and I hear, "Mommy, where's Chip?"