Anybody who has ever loved a dog knows they deserve obituaries, but they don’t get a public tribute. So this is my farewell to a beloved companion and a cherished member of our family who passed away a week ago on a beautiful, sunny, calm afternoon in Maine, not far from where she was born.

We adopted China, our black lab, from a family in China, Maine who had placed an ad in the Boston Globe. We called and requested the runt of the litter, because not only are runts smaller but they are often more gentle and submissive – better around kids. They told us they would reserve “Shrimpboat” for us, the temporary name they had given her.

Before picking up Shrimpboat we brainstormed every night at dinner about possible names, keeping in mind the rule that dogs best understood two-syllable names. To list a few, we liked Kona, Sugar, Pepper, and her birthplace, China (which resulted in the official pedigree registered name of Chinaberry Sugarbaby Eames).

When we went to pick up our tiny new puppy she was quivering behind the couch and refused to be lured out from her safe spot. Only one other dog was left from the litter to be picked up and that little guy was extremely outgoing, jumped confidently right into our laps.

For a second, my husband and I considered the other dog since he was so playful and fun, while China shook cowering in the corner, obviously hoping we would just go away.   But the more she quivered in fear the more I wanted to take care of her and let her know everything would be okay. (I was tiny and anxious as a kid so I could relate.)

Our children, Madeleine (who was 7 at the time – now 20) and Nate (who was 3 – now 16), argued throughout the three-hour trip north about who would get to hold China on the way home. They finally agreed on some system to share their new puppy. But Nate being only 3, and having missed his nap due to a very exciting day, fell promptly asleep as soon as he climbed into his comfy car seat. So Madeleine, grinning non-stop, got to hold China the whole way home.

For many years China’s name was synonymous with tennis ball. She always seemed to have one in her mouth, praying that someone/anyone would throw it for her. She enjoyed wandering the neighborhood daily (checking out garbage cans and compost piles), very aware of cars, even at night. China was extremely affectionate to us, her family, always nudging for a pat or a tummy rub.  She was an excellent watchdog with a good sharp bark. And she loved to eat like any lab – even ravenously downed her last meal Sunday morning.

But for me, China was my best buddy. She was almost always with me since I worked at home. Once we were done in the office writing in the morning, she went everywhere in the car with me, or helped me in the yard….

For the past five years we have owned property in western Maine. And ever since, our cottage has been China’s favorite location. Not only did she get extra attention and long romps, but she could swim in the lake several times a day.  Until about 6 months ago when she suddenly started to slow down and have severe breathing issues.

I wonder why we sometimes mourn the loss of a dog as much as (or more than) the loss of a person. Maybe it’s that unconditional love they constantly provide. They don’t care if you’re boring, pathetic, disfigured, smelly, or criminal. But just as amazing, they ask for so very little and never complain. If you call them they come happily. If you tell them to sit, they’re thrilled to sit. A dog lives to love and always gives you their very best no matter how crappy they feel.

As so many people have reminded us this week, our human relationships with dogs are pure and unique, like no other bond in life . . . and I will forever miss all our past family and extended family dogs: Homer, Raven, Inqui, Buster, Angel, Lien, Zollie, Silverbelle, Riley, and Thor.

I’m grateful I was with China to help her go peacefully in the end. My husband dropped everything and drove up to meet me as soon as I called, gently reminding me to let her go. And together we buried her beneath the pine trees in the woods behind our cottage on a beautiful, sunny, calm afternoon in Maine, not far from where she was born.

You were a great dog. Love you always, Chinny

Mom xo Dad xo Madeleine xo Nate xo