The last couple of weeks have been heavy with fertility information. And we just passed the feast day of St. Francis, known for his love and care for the more-than-human world: Brother Sun, Sister Moon, Brother Hamster, Sister Pup. So today is dedicated to an essential member of our family: Chet Barker.
Chet Barker is a very good dog. He’s the color of honey with white splotches on his belly and on his feet. Children are fond of telling us that he looks like a small version of Scooby Doo. Chet is a 30-pound bowling ball. Still scoopable if necessary, but strong and stubborn with a preference to go under his own power. One of his littermates had a DNA test done and we marveled at the mix of breeds that came together to make our special pup. (We also laughed that the delight at a DNA reveal is reserved for lovers of rescue pups and mutts. Not as delightful if you have papers on a pure bred!) Chet’s heritage is as follows: 29.9% American Bully; 20.1% Miniature Pinscher; 15% Chihuahua; 14.1% Australian Cattle Dog; 8.1% American Pit Bull Terrier; 4.9% German Shepherd Dog; 3.6% American Staffordshire Terrier; 4.3% Supermutt. Truly a delightful mutty mix.
Chet’s life started under a porch in Oklahoma almost exactly two years ago. Mom and pups were found together when the litter was barely a week old. They made their way up the interstate, well-worn with mileage from volunteers at the AHeinz57 Pet Rescue & Transport, an organization “committed to saving homeless companion animals, assisting other shelters/rescues through rescue transports, offer low cost spay/neuter services for our community, and educating the public on the issues of pet over-population, responsible pet ownership and puppy mills.” Of course, we knew nothing of this at the time.
It wasn’t until December of 2020, when the pups and their mom had been fostered together for over a month already, that Chet came on our radar. Do you remember December of 2020? It was rough. We were both working from home full time, there was no vaccine for COVID yet, we were each other’s primary person all day every day, the daylight was short but the days were long, and there was no end in sight. I kept catching Lucas scrolling through pets on rescue sites on his phone. For four years he’d been saying, “If I have to clean up poop, it’s gonna be of someone I’m related to,” but his browsing history told a different story. So when the AHeinz57 Pet Rescue posted about a litter of puppies that would be weaned and ready for adoption just in time for Christmas, Lucas filled out an application and started sweet talking me.
It was clear how excited and invested he was. I, on the other hand, was a bit more skeptical and a little owly about the whole thing. Growing up on a farm, we always had dogs and I loved them all. But they lived outside, had the space and safety to get the exercise they needed, and took care of their business where we didn’t have to see or touch it. House training a puppy in the middle of winter was totally new to me. Chet was scheduled to come home the week before Christmas and the same week as our first IUI attempt. I recently asked Lucas if he remembered the concurrence of these events, or how out of sorts I’d gotten. He hadn’t, but he understood. My complaint was that we were already working on a very important project and a puppy was not that. “I can see why you felt that way. But I guess I see it all as part of the same project.” Two years on, (and let’s be honest, in under two weeks) I concur(red).
Chet came to us as “Worf” from the #startreklitter (littermates included names like Deanna, Riker, and Jordi). We figured it was because of his massively furrowed brow. So much skin on his little head.
We also thought he looked a bit like his namesake, Chet Baker. Hence Chet Barker. Even though those first few weeks included getting up in the night to take him outside and fretting over whether he was eating enough and the need for lots of carpet spray and even more newspaper, his positive effect on our household was almost immediate. There’s nothing quite like puppy snuggles.
And suddenly, instead of all of Lucas and my communication being a direct line, we suddenly had a third party in the house to interact with. Bro time for Lucas and Chet became sacrosanct. And Lucas developed a great bit in which he stage-whispers to Chet things he’d like me to overhear. Not all triangulation is to be celebrated, but this is pretty great. In the midst of one together project that was offering nothing but heartache, we started another that grew our hearts and made our house feel more like home. A church member once told me that loving a pet makes us better humans. I’ve learned from experience that this is true.
Knowing Chet in all his particularities makes me more curious about other members of the human and more-than-human world. And Chet is particular. As a Pandemic Puppy, we weren’t able to socialize him as well as we’d have liked to. He is a mixture of curious, friendly, nervous, and shy. Shortly after we started taking him out for walks, we noticed he makes a habit of pretend pee stops when there’s a dog or person he’d like to take a closer look at. He thinks he’s being surreptitious about it, keeping his nose to the ground and looking over his shoulder as the other creature moves in the opposite direction. But he’s not fooling anyone.
Chet can skin and puncture a tennis ball with an unnerving amount of attention and precision. Hats make him real nervous. Not so much when they’re on your head. But seeing them come off is apparently very confusing and aggravating. There’s no game he likes better than chasing or being chased (thank goodness for a fenced in back yard). Rocks are a favorite toy: licking them, frolicking with them, tossing them in the air, rolling around on them. And there’s no place he’d rather sleep than my lap.
Together we’ve weathered regular checkups and unexpected swallowings (we haven’t had to induce vomiting often, but we sure know how), winter snowstorms and the glories of long summer days when Chet almost forgets that he sleeps inside, games of chase and tug and all the snuggles. It’s been almost two years and it’s hard to know how we ever spent our time without him. He’s our dog and we’re his people. And for the gift of belonging to each other, I say, “Glory!”
What a joy to see how Chet has become such a family member! I forgot how much he has grown, maybe because we hadn't seen you all during too many months of the Plague (as Art Straub calls it). Thanks for writing such a wonderful tale today, Lindsey.
Yes! I say 'Glory' too...and write this with Milly's head in my lap, our sweet evening ritual. 'Glory' indeed!