Do you know why Chihuahuas shake?

Before I start, I'd like to thank Jessie Lynn Photography and Digital Services for doing a special photo session for 'end of life' for us.

My soon-to-be husband and I both agree: Chihuahuas shake because there's just too much dog stuck in those tiny frames.

I don't like small dogs particularly. I'm more of a cat person to begin with. I used to be a dog-groomer and I LOVED it. I remember sticking my whole head into a bull-mastiff's mouth, and laughing when it fit - then squealing like a piglet when a big drop of slobber fell in my eye.

I remember holding towels to bloody hands after a miniature poodle, chihuahua or schnauzer ripped into me while trying to do their nails or haircut. Little dogs are just vicious. I've found that a lot of small things are vicious. Tiny dogs, rodents, very short men, and of course tiny humans known as 'children.' Small creatures are volatile and should be handled with care.

Also in my experience, little dogs are bastards about potty training. They could be 150 years old and still pee in their favorite spot in the house in the middle of the night.

I'm just emphasizing an opinion here... little dogs aren't my favorite. For reasons. Valid reasons I still carry the scars to this day. BUT... I've been known to love the little shits anyway. Anything with doe eyes and a waggly tail will always, always win me over and creep into my heart.

There is one little deer chihuahua though that is in the 'goodest boy' club. My little friend Comet. I met Comet when he was a 6-week-old pup in 2007. He is 16 years of pure wa-wa goodness. A friend of the family used to breed pure-bred deer chihuahuas. Comet was the runt of the litter, so Angie gave him away for free to another family friend.

A few years later, Aunt Cathy gave Comet to my mom because the two had bonded while they were house-sharing. Like inseparable, this dog would howl for hours if mom left the house and didn't take him with her. It was ridiculous.

Now, many years later, Mom, Dad, and Comet have gone through so much together. They have moved all over the country together, went through major health diagnoses together, and he's lived with me sometimes when mom was doing her walkabouts all over the USA.

There was also that one-time mom overdosed both herself and him on weed butter - because she had never had edibles at the time and had no idea that giving a 5 lb Chihuahua 5 crackers with a big dollop of weed butter on it wasn't a good idea.

She and that dog tripped out on their bed for hours. I'm not going to lie. It's the funniest story you'd ever hear mom tell. I felt bad, but oh I sure did laugh. Hard.

Needless to say, this dog is literally my little brother. I remember when he would sit in my lap, and we would aggravate him by gasping like we were scared. He would jump down and bark viciously at the dark outside on the porch. There are so many memories I have of laughing with family with this dog in my lap.

And on October 26th, at 3pm EST, we're gonna have to say goodbye to him. He's so old and so frail. No matter how much we feed him he doesn't gain weight. If he gets a wound, it doesn't heal anymore. His legs are swollen with edema. They hurt him so he licks them all the time.

He's got a heart murmur, and no matter how hot we keep his heating pad he's still cold and shivering. His eyes are milky with age, and he mostly sleeps. And when he looks at me, his eyes tell me: "Sissy, I'm ready. It's time."

Quite frankly, I don't know how he's still alive. I guess love and taking good care of them really does make a difference. My mom's a mess. She's been delaying this, and I've had to tell her it's time. She doesn't do death well. She couldn't even be there for my grandpa's death. And when her best friend died a little over a year ago, she still cries over her.

Goodbyes are hard for her. But I don't blame her. Death is a difficult subject. She was diagnosed with aggressive MS, and all the time we have with her is borrowed. Some days she doesn't remember things, and some days she can't talk. Some days she's in so much pain she can't even get up to go to the bathroom.

She struggles between the guilt of surviving her loved ones, and being terrified that one day she just won't wake up. But living is hard too because of the constant agony she's in. Sometimes she can't sleep because the pain is so bad for days at a time. I'm going to lose her soon, and she's all I really had growing up.

Mom's lost a lot in her life, so when someone she loves passes, she grieves so deeply that she can't heal. And I'm terrified that the stress of Comet leaving us is going to seriously affect my mom. I am expecting some memory lapses and the onset of symptoms that resemble dementia very strongly with the stress of this event for at least a week.

It's almost like Comet is going to be taking a large piece of Mom with him. They have been such an integral part of each other. For me, saying goodbye to Comet is hard. Because he's the one who is always at her side, taking care of her. Even when she can't remember his name, her hands find comfort in his fur, stroking him in a muscle memory that has been building for almost two decades.

"What's my dogs name again?" Shell ask sniffling during one of her memory lapses, where she realizes everything is wrong and there's something wrong. She always cries and has an anxiety attack - and why wouldn't you when the last thing you remember is you lived in California and the 33-year-old woman is your daughter but last you checked she was 17 and in highschool?

"Comet," me or dad will say.

"What a stupid name. Why did I name him that?" She'll say. EVERY. TIME.

"You didn't, his previous owners did." We'll reassure her.

"Oh good, because that's a stupid name for a Chihuahua."

Every time people. Word for word.

We won't get to have that conversation again after Thursday. Not that it's a great conversation anyway. But still... it'll never happen again.

Instead, it will turn into:

"Where's my dog? Where's Comet?"

"Oh.. uh... mom... Comet's not here."

Because why tell her he's dead if she doesn't remember? Unless she doesn't let it go, and I have to keep lying - which she knows when I'm lying. Every. Time. Mom knows me better than I know myself, and even in the middle of a memory lapse she can still freaking tell when I'm lying.

It's a mom thing I think.

If Comet goes, will Mom be so lonely she finally goes? I know it's so selfish of me, but I'm terrified of losing my mom. And I know she's terrified of leaving us, her grandchildren, and her kids. She has so many fears and insecurities she's never addressed that it's tormenting her now in her fragile state of mind. But how will I be okay without Mom? But, how is Mom gonna be okay without Comet?

And, I'm going to miss my little buddy. He's not just been there for mom, but for me too. I can't tell you how many nights he's snuggled into me under the blankets when I just needed a friend.

Literally, best chihuahua in the world. I'm dreading Thursday. Not just because I'm going to lose a little brother, but I'm worried that it will be the start of losing mom for good too.

Wish me love and luck and light y'all. I have a dark feeling that I'm going to really, really need it.

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