I actually can’t think of anything I’ve ever done in my life that was harder than what I just did.

The Beginning

When I was in first year university, after my dog Candy passed away at age 13 if I remember correctly, and a few months after my family got a female standard poodle named Chloe, we get Champ.

Champ was about a year old when we got him. He was owned by mom’s hairdresser and friend named Lisa. Lisa had just had a baby and couldn’t handle a child and a spunky little white maltese mutt. She gave Champ to my family.

When we got Champ, he was an energetic little white doggy weighing about 6.5lbs. He was more timid at first moving into a new family than he was later in his life. He immediately fell in love with the standard white poodle, because let’s face it, standard white poodles are hot bitches. Just like in the cartoons. In fact, every male dog wants a piece of this poodle. Quote me on that. It’s just like the cartoons.

Champ’s male, however, my family is used to female dogs, and always treated champ like a little girl. You see, I’m not cool with that. At all. Champ is a man! Sure he didn’t have testicles but, he was still a down-ass dude. That’s when I decided to replace his little girly baby blue collar with a black leather, spikey collar. It was rude! You could see the strut in his 10 inch high walk.

Champ at first didn’t bark ever! He was trained never to bark because he used to live in an apartment building. My parents prefer barking, because the dogs double as an alarm system. My other dog, Chloe, barks at everything, all the time. We owned champ for probably two weeks before we heard him bark for the first time, it was the cutest sound you’ve ever heard. It took him weeks to get used to the fact that he was allowed to bark in the house, and every time he barked it was extremely cute - until it became an hourly routine.

 

Throughout Time

Over time I took champ under my wing. He was so chilling, and all my friends loved him. I used to entertain dozens of my friends over at my house, and everyone would love to see Champ. He was really rambunctious. You’d be sitting, watching television and all of a sudden he’d come flying into the house, run at you, jump on your lap, lick your face, lick your neck, lick your sweater, get distracted by Chloe, run over, hump her, get yelled at because he was humping the other dog, run back at you, jump on your lap, lick your face, lick the couch and start the process over again three times before he ran off and did it to someone else.

Champ’s hilarious. So annoying, but so very hilarious. My family always talked about giving him away, but I’d never let that happen, and they weren’t really serious. There was just a general lack of peace at all times because Champ’s so happy and spunky and energetic - sometimes it got to be a bit much.

Things that would totally annoy me about Champ. I’d be home in bed, sleeping soundly at 9am on a Saturday. Champ would run full speed into my closed and locked (yet kind of flimsy) door, and burst it open. This would wake me up, but having my door open would keep me awake. I’d get up and close the door. This annoyed me every single day. Even though Champ’s head was the size of tennis ball, making his brain the size of a golf ball, I had faith in his brain. So I trained that little bastard to close my door. It was a trick that made everyone fall in love with him. I’d have to yell it at him sometimes to make him do it, but he’d yell back at me with disobedience. We had a great mutual relationship.

I also trained Champ to respond to any name. It was all in the way that I said it. I’d scream Mortimer at him and he’d respond. Any name at all, Jonathan, Matthew, Franklin, Moondust, Litlte Man (that was actually one of his official nicknames). I had a few official names for him: Chizzamp, Superchamp, Champers, Champamp, Dude, Boyeeeee, etc. Also, there were several catch phrases that would stimulate his pride: he’s a licker, what do you think Champ, and (the most common) Champ’s the man!

A good friend of mine groomed Champ for several years. It’s a common procedure for dogs to have their anal glands squeezed to clean their butts. It is gross I’m sure, though I’ve never seen it, nor do I care to. One evening, when we were all hanging out my bedroom and Champ was chilling out with us after getting groomed, my friends an I were playing around my collection of guitars. We came up with a little song that’ll live forever. The chorus was six words, and riff was two chords. You could freestyle any verse you like, as long as there is at least one person singing the six word chorus. The only words are: “Champ needs his anal glands squeezed”. This song will one day win a grammy and I vow to sing it for the rest of my life.

 

The End

I moved to Australia for one year. I missed my dogs very much while I was gone. I came back and I noticed Champ has been a little more feminized by my parents. I wasn’t really cool with that, but after a few hours with me, Champ turned into the man that he always was. While I was gone champ had a little benign tumor removed from his chest. It was a very simple procedure. It was just under his skin.

I no longer live with my dogs. But I see them regularly when I stop at my parents place for dinner, or whatever. I stopped by on the Friday of the Labour Day weekend. When I walked into the house, I noticed that Chloe jumped on me but Champ was nowhere to be seen. That’s odd. He usually never shuts up and runs around with his nails clicking on the tile until you want to punt him across the kitchen. I asked where he was and my mom said he was sick with the flu. I didn’t know dogs get sick, but apparently they do. He was just lying on the couch, quietly and didn’t move too much when he saw me. My mom said she’d take him to the vet if he didn’t get better in a few days.

When I came back from the long weekend, he was noticeably better. He had more energy, but he still wasn’t his normal self. Days went by and he went up and down. Then finally on September 8th, my mom called me and said she had bad news about champ. He has a tumor the size of a ping-pong ball in his lungs. There’s not a lot you can do for a 7lbs dog who has lung cancer. The result would be terminal.

Over the next week he got worse, quickly. We gave him some medication that was to stop his coughing and relieve any pain he might be in. On Thursday night however, my mom called me at 10pm and said we need to take Champ in to be put down.

I went over to my parents place and there he was. He could hardly move. He couldn’t control his bowels. He looked miserable. He wasn’t eating much. We picked him up and drove him to an emergency vet in another city. We told them he has to be euthanized. They asked if we should do a medical on him first, of course we said yes. When he came back from his medical, he had way more energy, and i could feed him treats. He was so much better. He totally dodged a bullet because we took him home at 1am.

We figured that the medication he was on, being an opiate, was screwing his system up and it was too much for him. So we took him off the medication. Two more days went by until today.

My mom called me and he’s been off the medication. He’s not eating, he’s not drinking and he’s in pain. He’s not getting any better. There is no cure for lung cancer in a little dog. Kimo is rare, and will only prolong life by weeks. Surgery is invasive and won’t even cure the problem. There is no medication that’ll stop or slow or correct the problem. There is nothing we could’ve done to make Champ a healthy dog. He was miserable. He couldn’t move. He couldn’t eat on or off the medication.

I met my dad at the vet today. I saw champ. I pet him on his head softly and he cried. It broke my heart. I could see into his eyes and he’s my best friend that I’ve had for the extremely short seven years of his life. He was no different from when he’d sleep at the foot of my bed with bed head. He was just so so so sick. He can’t stop panting. He can’t stand up. His legs would separate when he stood, and he’d fall to the ground. We carried him inside and made our final decision to put him down after consulting with the vet. I didn’t want to do it, but it had to be done. I can’t put into words the emotions that were going through me. I considered very strongly every alternative for him.

My dad and I hung out with Champ for a while and kept him calm. I managed to give him some milk bones that he chomped on. His only food in a day. I have a knack for feeding him. I also had him drink some water. The only water he’s had in a day. I sat with him and pet him and talked to him for a long time, before we had to do it.

I really didn’t want to let Champ go, but his life was so debilitated. It wasn’t fair to my best friend to live a miserable life. Nothing made him happy anymore. While he was at the vet he’d yelp once in a while out of some sort of pain.

I agreed it was time for him to go. The vet shaved a tiny square from his cute little front right paw. I spent a few more minutes with him looking into his eyes telling him I was going to miss him. My dad said goodbye and left the room. I held him alone for a few minutes on my lap. The vet came in, asked if I was ready and I nodded. I held him in my lap. The vet’s assistant held his paw. I pet his little head, whispering in ear “I’m so sorry Champ, I love you.” over and over and over again while rocking back and forth. The vet put a needle into his paw. He cried. I held him tighter telling him it’s okay calming him down. He calmed down. I didn’t stop petting him. I didn’t stop saying “I’m so sorry, I love you”. Within 15 seconds he was gone.

The vet left the room and I spent another ten minutes mourning over my little dog. Champ’s remains were taken by the vet. I hugged my dad and came here to write about his life.

Everyone loved Champ. My entire family loved Champ. All my friends loved Champ. He was the most awesome little mutt you’ve ever seen. He left way too early and I’m sorry he’s gone, but he’s not suffering anymore and for that I’m happy.

Please pay your respects to Champ in the comments below. 

Here Is To Champ

I tell myself about doggy heaven where that little bastard gets to lick all the faces he wants and nobody has the urge (or action) to throw him across the room like usual. Where he gets to hump all the hot poodle bitches he wants without humans yelling at him “no humpies!”. A place where he gets to chill with all the dogs that had to make a move off this planet.

On more than one occasion, champ would be chilling out with me and likely my friends, and he’d get into our booze. He loved it. He’d drink out of your wine glass, but his favourite was vodka cranberry, which would get him smashed. I didn’t condone it. I’d be pissed cause I’m not sharing my glass with a dog, but he’d still get in there. He’d get cranberry all over his face and then stumble around for twenty minutes before passing out. It was hilarious. Often he’d eat something that he wasn’t supposed to, like grass, or dirt because his brain was so small, and he’d run into a room and look at you like “what?” and he’d have it all over his face. He was pretty cranky in the mornings. He’d sleep on my bed really really late, until about noon. His body was like a furnace in bed. He’d also staple your lower legs to a position in bed. Almost every night I’d kick and hear a thump, then a jingle from his collar. I’d realize that I just totally kicked him off the bed and he probably slept through the fall and woke up to his body being dropped on the floor. I’d apologize and he’d snort at me, but we’d both go back to sleep. Champ had bed head too. He’d wake up and his hair would be all over the place. It was really cute.

Sometimes I’d ask Champ philosophical questions. He’d look at me with this simple little look and it would answer all my questions. He was very insightful. His simplicity was his most virtuous trait and I’ll always value what he brought to me and the people around. I’ll miss my best friend. To you Champ. Goodbye, little buddy, I’ll always love ya!

Champ’s the man!