susan fitch

This is Cody with his best friend Caddis. Caddis belongs to Bub's brother Chris.

Cody and Caddis have know each other their whole lives. They went to puppy preschool together. They've had adventures at the river together. They even lived across the street from each other for several years. Now days, when we load up the car to visit Caddis, Cody's ears perk up at her name and he starts whimpering and whining in excitement once we get off the freeway exit near her house. They are good buddies. Cody has always liked to play with the ball. Caddis likes stuffed animals and tug of war. Caddis has a favorite toy. It's a little hedgehog. When ever Cody gets a hold of it, he loves to rip it apart and pull it's stuffing out.

A few months ago, we found out that Caddis has breast cancer. The vet expected her to live only another 4-6 months. We got the call on Wednesday that the cancer had taken over, and they had to put Caddis down.

I've heard the argument before that dogs are stupid. That they don't understand humans. I've never really believed it. That's why the second I hung up the phone, I called Cody to me. I looked in his eyes, and as gently as I could, I told him that his best friend was gone. I wasn't sure if he understood or not, but I hoped he did.

A day or so later, we were given this:
It's Caddis's favorite Hedge hog toy. I gave it to Cody and told him I thought that Caddis would've wanted him to have it. He took it in his mouth, but never ripped it apart.....
Last night was the first night we took him to Caddis's house since she died. We didn't intend for it to work out this way, but he ended up staying there by himself while we went out. I wondered if he would understand the permanence of her absence. When we returned, Bub found him crying at the door. It was late and we were busy with the kids arguing and such in the car, so we didn't pay much attention to Cody whining the whole way home. But last night, when Cody came to bed, he brought that little hedgehog with him. He just held it. He didn't chew it, or rip it apart or even lick it. He just held it and went to sleep with it. This morning, I realized. Cody has never whined on the way home before. He knows. He loves his friend and misses her. Looking back at the way he's cherished that little hedgehog, I believe he knew the moment I knelt down and told him his friend was gone. Poor Cody.

He knows.