Cammie, Harpo and Chico's page

July 31, 2002. Chico is gone.

you led the way on our walks
looked back to see that I followed.
today you died, in my arms
looked once more to see that I'd follow.

and I promised you one day I will.

May 24, 2003. Harpo joined Chico today.
below is my letter to you.

more photos below and here

June 25, 2003. Cammie died today.
Cammie you were and continue to be my best friend,
because you were as sensitive as I, and in a reflective way knew
so quickly how I was feeling. I miss you more than I have
ever missed anyone, we spent 16 years together. As I loved
you so much, it is almost more than I can bear to remember how much
love you gave me, could not have given more, just when I needed it.
You went through a hard time losing your eye, your hip,
your toe, some teeth, and at the end I'll always remember the
slight smile and irreverent tongue as you closed your eye for
the last time.
I know somewhere you are waiting for me Cam.

Cammie's bark
Harpo's bark the banging is Chico's wagging tail hitting the filing cabinet.
Chico's bark

on arrival in Texas, Harpo settles in...

Harpo: I remember well the trip with you in the back seat of my car from San Diego to LA because you were sitting up noticing everything, yet relaxed and seemingly ready for a change. When we got to my house on Rinconia Drive in Hollywood you were surprised and excited by all the space you now had because you had been in the kennel for a few months waiting to be rescued (and renamed). You had been kept in a garage by the previous owner, and debarked.

As I did when I first met you, I stroked your stomach when you died which you asked for. It calmed you.

You were about 80% blind, could see only close things, and maybe about that deaf, I always whistled when I arrived home at a certain frequency that you could hear, though you always turned the wrong way, which I suppose was because one ear heard and one didn't.

You were a dog who knew well that you had been given a second chance by rescue, there was an unfettered joy and maybe gratitude in you that you only showed to me and Jenny. At the end of our walks when we arrived home, whether in the Hollywood Hills, Texas, or here in Burbank before you were paralyzed, you were so happy to be home that I took the leash off when we were close to the house so you could run full-tilt to the door and then bounce around to watch the rest of us arrive.

I don't know how, but Chico knew you liked to be licked on the stomach. You murmured in your sleep.

Harpo, I know you're with your pal Chico, and where I'll be too. Sinto muito sua falta. May 24, 2003

Dog Walk Reel