01/08/2026
Weekend Reflections #42: Chilli 🌶️
There has been a lot of loss around me lately, but this is not a crisis post. It’s a little love letter to a very good dog.
Today we said goodbye to Chilli.
Chilli-Gingalicious-Ginger-Crunch the Second, if we are being formal.
Fifteen years and three months of love, fur, snacks, suspicious smells, and the kind of devotion that makes humans look emotionally underqualified.
His first toy was a Crows football. Adelaide supporter from birth, even though he was born across the ditch.
He chased balls of sand at the beach and flip circles in the air (see pic). He rolled over on cue. we used code word “zombies” to make him sprint like we’d all been placed under apocalyptic threat.
He would chase a ball but not bring it back. Very much, “You threw it away. I’m not your staff.”
When I was CEO of an NGO, he even had a formal position on our website as “Chief Support Officer.”He would sit with people in crisis without judgement, gentle and kind, offering the exact amount of warmth needed and no unsolicited advice. Honestly, he was better at it than many humans.
He loved everyone, which made him a terrible guard dog.
He also failed his support dog exam because he talked too much.
By the end tho he was very old. Doggy dementia. Deaf. Blind. Incontinent. His back legs had mostly resigned from their duties, without filling out the correct forms.
And somehow, in the middle of all that, he was still happy.
Still sniffing. Still begging for treats. Still accepting cuddles like a tiny elderly king who knew his value.
This morning, the cafe staff gave him freshly cooked bacon for breakfast.
The vet was kind.
Good humans.
The last few days were different. He kept falling down the stairs. We didn’t want to make the decision because of something terrible, like a broken hip, pain that arrived too late for gentleness. So we made the decision before it became a crisis.
Which is a dreadful privilege. The kind you hate having, even while knowing it is part of loving them properly.
I’ve lost a family member recently too that did not get the opportunity for that same dignity and that grief made me go strangely numb. But saying goodbye to Chilli, my best snuggler, the one who always knew when I was sad, opened the floodgates.
Apparently my emotional system decided a small ginger dog was the key to the whole dam wall. Fair enough. He earned it.
I miss him already in the stupid ordinary places. Tripping over him in the kitchen. Waiting by the door when someone came home.The pure joy of him at the beach, as if he had personally invented sand.The way he could tell when I was sad and simply put himself close without some inspirational quote from Pinterest. Just warm body, steady breathing, and the silent agreement that big feelings are less awful when you’re not alone with them, because pets hold space for big feelings in a way we still overcomplicate.
He had the luxury, if that is the right word, of never losing anyone. He was born into his pack and moved on while we were all still here, loving him.He didn’t have to wonder where we’d gone. Didn’t have to search the house for someone missing. Didn’t have to learn the shape of absence.
I still sit to the left of my crochet chair so his ghost self has room beside me. Ridiculous? Yes but I’ll keep doing it. Because fifteen years is a long time to have a little warm body pressed against you. A long time to be followed from room to room like you are the most fascinating person alive, even when you are just carrying laundry.
RIP Chilli 🌶️
Fifteen years and three months of love.
And still, somehow, not nearly long enough.
Just a personal reflection, not advice, and not a substitute for professional support.
