Leaving with a Friend

Create a scenario with this tragic, surprise ending. The car wreck you will be in will take your life. In the passenger seat next to you is the only survivor of this horrific accident. Who would you choose to be there next to you in your last minutes of life? What does the decision you made in this scenario say about your relationship with your choice?

My final answer may surprise you. First, let me tell you about those I did not choose. My adult daughter, Allena, would be screaming and not at all comforting. Her dog, Rosco, could not be in the seat next to me either. Allena couldn’t deal with losing her dog and father in the same day. Rosco will become her comforter.

There is no way I would want my wife, Bobbi, to see me die. Our daughter will need her for support during my demise. Lola is way to hyper in tense situations. If you have been keeping track of the family members I’ve eliminated, you know my final choice by now.

My wife’s male Chihuahua, Chico, was born in 2007. We got him two years later from the Franklin County Dog Shelter. Chico always sits on the driver’s arm rest whenever I run errands in the car. Those big black eyes, garbage breath, graying light brown fur, and expressive large ears have always comforted me as being at home, and spoke immeasurable wisdom (beyond his years).

I picture those final moments (if possible) like this. At first, Chico would be very nervous as he shakes wildly before he calms down and settles further in my chest as I hold him close to my heart. Chico has watched over me before. During my 2009 cancer scare, he and his brother kept vigilance over when the family was out of the house. Chico realizes his job as he gives me one last kiss. I look at him and whisper, “Buddy, you’ll be OK. Daddy loves his Chicy.” That quickly it’s all over, and I enter the afterlife feeling loved and cherished by a living being (a dog) that truly cared about me.