#20 A Versatile Companion Remembered: Eulogy for Cholo

Sunrise March 8 at the Berkeley Humane Society, 1997

Sunset November 8, 2011

Cholo came home with me and Lonny (photo lower left) at 8 weeks. At 14 and a half, Cholo has lived a long and happy life. I wanted to share a few highlights in photos for those who will find this as fine a memorial for a creature who has given so many of us pleasure.

CHOLO'S CHARACTER: As a puppy just home from the pound, Cholo sat at my feet and studied me. I always remembered that moment, how odd he seemed. Puppies are typically uncontrolled bundles of squirming energy. What up with this pup so quiet and observant?

Of course, he had his squirming moments, jumping all over the back seat when we approached anywhere fun. I remember once my friend Susan was riding in the front seat while Cholo slobbering eagerly over her shoulder to show his affection. I decided then that he needed better car manners. Ever willing to please, he learned to be just a little less enthusiastic as a backseat driver.

Being disciplined was one of Cholo’s fortes. Many will remember that he would walk off leash on not-too-busy city streets with us, but at a corner, he’d stop and sit, waiting for the invitation to continue on with us. I taught him that trick when he was about 8 months old and someone brought him to the house out of the street, reprimanding me for letting my dog wander off the sidewalk. Except for a squirrel running across the road, he (almost) never got off the sidewalk without permission after that.

In fact, once, Cholo and I were walking with a group of friends down city streets, and I suddenly realized Cholo was no longer with us. I looked around, I looked back, and there he was, on the corner a block away, anxiously awaiting the signal that he could cross too. Good dog!

Cholo had a distinctive look. I can’t count how many times—almost daily, hundreds of times, complete strangers asked me what kind of dog he was. I had at least two responses to keep myself entertained with the same question. One, “That’s a Purebred Mutt!” and two, “American Scruff.” The answers always got a smile, just like Cholo’s very scruffy smile produced smiles everywhere he went. He also looked particularly distinguished with his legs crossed.

CHOLO’S FRIENDS: I'm on the road often, and of course Cholo went everywhere with me, and my friends always welcomed Cholo into their homes. I received many warm condolences on his loss, too many to share all of them, but I include a few.

Cholo made friends easily with his winsome face. Two of his early good friends were Izzy and Micah, who grew up with Cholo. Izzy was 2 when he gave Cholo his first birthday party. When the boys were older, they taught Cholo to swim in the American River: He had been too scared to wade into the little inlet by himself, but when they waded out and tossed a ball to each other, along came Cholo. He was already 8 years old by then. You can teach an old dog new tricks. Here is a photo of Izzy and Micah saying good-night to Cholo when they visited the cabin.

At age 13, Blair, a Girl Scout who came to sell cookies at my door in Sacramento became Cholo's babysitter, giving him walks on my long days at the university. Soon her whole family adopted him, too. Cholo enjoyed various trips to Lake Tahoe with Blair’s mom Sydney, not to mention swimming in the pool at their home. Once when I was across the country, they nursed Cholo through an emergency with a life-threatening abcess (we later discovered from a foxtail he had snorted up his nose—nasty). Sydney wrote of Cholo: “what a wonderful, loving, wise, tolerant, peaceful life force he was.”

Cholo was named Dr. Cho by my friend Dr. Darryl (Babe) Wilson (of the Fall River natives in northern California, photo left, in one of my Travels with Cholo). Babe always added a thought for Dr. Cho in his letters to me, quirky reminders of the wisdom of this creature, especially as Cholo aged and was teaching me patience. On Cholo "going on ahead," Babe wrote, “At dawn I'll sing a song for you both, then I'll say, "Ina'lum'qotmi" (You must go but you must take my heart with you” to Dr. Cho as he continues The Journey of Life without us for a while.” Thank you, Babe, from me, Amal.

Here are a few other portraits that people have begged to get with the honorable Cholo and some words they wrote in memory of their friend.

My father Pete Bancroft and I with Cholo in Sacramento (right): Pops wrote, “Cholo was truly a member of our family, loved by us all … Those of us who have seen him in recent weeks all sensed that at 91 (going on 98) this marvelous gentleman was keeping himself together almost entirely and solely out of love for his mama.”

And note (photo left) my father and his kids with our first beloved dog Buck in 1963.

My older brother Bradford, his wife Phyllis, their Mula and my Cholo in Los Angeles (below left). My sister Chris on the road in Mendocino in July (center). My younger brothers Stephen and Greg, with Greg’s wife Wendy on the back deck in October (right).

(Below left) With Fred and Ann in the fall leaves in Sacramento. Wrote Fred: “His enthusiasm and affection, his good nature and adventurousness, his courage. The essence of DOG. I loved him, too. He was a beautiful boy.”

(Right) Cholo with friends Nomi and Susan On Top of the World last December. Nomi, the mother of Cholo’s two first play buddies, Izzy and Micah, said that we will all feel the void of this warm soul. "He was deeply loving and loyal as you were with him – an amazing tender relationship. You know how much the boys and I loved Cholo and felt that he was part of our family. Izzy especially felt that he was a brother and loved him deeply. Cholo's energy, delight, dignity and kindness touched us deeply and will always be in our hearts . . . forever.”

(Below center) With Jeff and Eben in the Redwood Dell in Willits a couple of years ago, where in fact Cholo is buried.

A favorite position for Cholo was to give everyone a chance to rub his knobby head, as here (below right) with his head on Katherine’s lap last November. I appreciated Katherine noting the "amazing give and take between you two. Not just dog-master thing going on. I don't know, the exchanges felt wry and whimsical, relaxed with an obviously-earned familiarity, syncopated." Yes, Cholo was easy to be with in all those ways.
Left is Cholo with my dear friend Marjorie and her husband Robert only two weeks ago On Top of the World, the hill by the cabin that looks out to the ocean. Marjorie, like so many, reaches out to Cholo in love and joy.

ACTIVE AND INTERACTIVE IN HIS YOUTH: One strange gift that dogs give us (of so many) is teaching us about loving so fully for such a short time. As Cholo slowed down so dramatically, even exponentially in the last two years, how long ago now seems his youth when he was running after balls incessantly, swimming or taking long walks at the river and in the woods. He loved his fetchit; here he is (below left) with Jeff’s nephew Benjie, alert and ready to swim.

INTREPID CHOLO: In the last few months, he endured sometimes trying situations. Putting up with snow, hikes, sleeping in the unheated cold shed during cabin renovations, travels with his mama.

DOG AS BUDDHA BEING: Surely any of us who love our dogs and cats marvel at how these once wild critters came to be part of our lives, working the system to get food, warmth, and massages. While some theories about dogs believe that they manipulate us to keep them in comfort on their terms. Is the love they seem to show just our interpretation of their manipulation of us? In some ways, and yet....and yet....

Clearly Cholo enjoyed his friendships, and aside from what he got from all of us, he also gave us a hint of the wild, a Buddha nature. He was here to work in his own way—guarding his pack, keeping us all together as he roamed up and down the lines of a group on a walk. He was here to show unconditional love: even if I’d left him for hours, he was willing to forgive my slights and love me fully and immediately. And finally he was here to simply be in the world, enjoy what nature and people have to offer.

I often watched Cholo observe the world around us. He was patient, wondrous, curious,

I seek to be more like him. And that was only one of the gifts he gave.

Here he is (below) at the special hilltop in my ‘hood, a place we call On Top of the World. I like thinking of him with the sun perpetually shining on him.

The End, New Beginnings

Letting go of Cholo--putting him to sleep--was one of the hardest decisions I've ever had to make, wondering if he was ready. Though he was no longer able to eat, couldn't walk far, and panted hard with pain he could not describe, I hoped it would turn around. With the help of my friends Bird and Sienna and the good vet Dr. Chana who all know dogs well and what their demise means for them and their human companions, I was able to let Cholo rest at last.

He is buried in what I refer to as the Goddess Dell (below), a circle of redwoods where his back is curled against the sheltering wall of a burnt out giant stump (left), with a yes, whimsical collection of river stones, redwood slab, and a hanging collage of found objects made by a previous denizen of the cabin Helen (who deserves a story herself). My nieces know my habit of inviting guests to make offerings to the nature spirits. And what better offering than a cherished companion animal.

Visiting the dell is itself a remove from the world, and now I can feel Cholo's eternal slumber. I’m sure he is continuing to run in his sleep and enjoy the pleasures of adventure, which he helped me enjoy on our walks over the years. Thank you, my honey. Blessed be.