The Life of Chi(a)

In the short time I was in St. George Chia lost a lot of ground. Last night I wasn't sure if she was going to make it; Keven had told me that she had been worse over the weekend. But she's a trouper, and this morning she was wagging her tail and trying to be perky when I took her outside. She no longer can maneuver the stairs, so needs to be carried about.

I debated whether or not to talk with Kris about her deteriorating condition, and finally decided it would be better for him to know what is coming than to be caught off guard. This is the conversation, more or less, that we had as we watched her lying in her little bed on the kitchen floor this morning:

Me: Chia isn't doing very well, Kris. I'm not sure how much longer we're going to have her around.
Kris (moving a bit closer and peering at her): Her eyes are open; she's OK.
Me: Have you noticed that she isn't moving around very well, and she doesn't eat much anymore. And that she sleeps all the time?
Kris: Oh, she's all right. She's not too old yet.

A little while later he came down the stairs and we had this conversation:

Kris: Well, Chia's about gone. Time to get a new dog!
Me: Um, well, why don't we just wait a bit? We don't need to hurry.
Kris: My mom knows I won't be happy if I don't have a dog.

He has such a knack for making me laugh and cry at the same time.