Chance, an epilogue

It is a statement about terriers, and especially my terriers, that when I tell my friends, “I’m worried that Chance might have gotten rejected from heaven, and that if he did get in, he’s misbehaving. Do you think he’s ok?” the unanimous vote is that of course he’s misbehaving. He’s Chance.

I don’t know how many of heaven’s sofas have been peed on so far but I have a good idea of what purgatory will look like. It looks a lot like an infinite bottle of Nature’s Miracle and an unending roll of paper towels.

Chance Gibson (2008-2023)

In 2008 our dog Jessie died of cancer. A few months later, on July 1, 2008, we brought Chance Benedict Gibson home from the breeder.

A very small brown and white puppy on a light green comforter on the floor. He's chewing a pink stuffed bunny.

Many adventures ensued.

On Sunday September 3, 2003, Chance died of a sudden and catastrophic health collapse.

A brown and white jack russel with a grey muzzle sleeping in a dog bed with his head perched up on the bed's bolsters.

Fifteen years is a hell of a run.

At some point, I’ll have the ability to talk more about my boy, but right now my heart is too full.

Sleep well, Bug. Don’t fight with JessieDog. I’ll see you later.

Merry Christmas, a bit early, and probably a bit late

Two weeks ago I was off — between jobs, so it was the most relaxing kind of vacation for a tech worker because nobody could ping me on Slack about anything work related.

(Yes, yes, I know, I should shut off notifications on work chat boards but it’s not as easy as it sounds.)

I used the time to take pictures of the dogs in their Christmas finest and then make a card over on Shutterfly. I also ordered my brother a Christmas present.

At the end of my time off, a package from Shutterfly arrived and, assuming it was my gift for my brother, I put it away somewhere safe. And I thought, wow, Christmas cards really are running late this year as the days ticked over.

Yesterday my brother’s Christmas present arrived.

Which means somewhere in this house I have safely stored 200 pre-addressed customized Christmas cards. They’re so safely stored I have no idea where I put them. I tore parts of the house apart yesterday looking and, well, no luck.

So, working off the assumption that the cards will surface sometime around February, please enjoy these pictures of the terror trio and accept our warm wishes for the holidays.

View from the floor of Kaylee in a red cape, Chance in a collar and tie, and Myka in a shiny hat all looking up to a point off-camera (where my husband is holding a treat)

Photo from above, looking down on Kaylee in a red cape that's hanging sideways, Chance in his collar and tie (barely visible) and Myka in her shiny new year's hat looking up hoping for a treat. At the top of the photo my hand holding a treat