Chaos
September 3, 1988 to July 15, 2001
With Brunzi and ballies
In G-d's Grace

On July 30, 2001, we received this touching letter from our good friend Carol Marangoini, of Brunzi's Best. Just four years ago, she lost her beloved Brunzi, and now her beautiful little girl Chaos crossed over to the Rainbow Bridge on Sunday, July 15th. 

We were in Massachusetts to celebrate the first of her 13th Barkday parties when she began to fail. I took her to the emergency vet who gave me devastating news — she had blood in her abdomen from a tumor that had burst, and she needed emergency surgery.
   
Prior to surgery the vet took a lung x-ray and came back with even more devastating news — one of her lungs had collapsed and the other one was diseased. He gently explained that her ability to survive surgery with this condition was unlikely, because she wouldn't be able to recover from the anesthesia. I asked what would happen if I just took her home, and he said she might or might not survive the night. The only thing that I couldn't bear more than losing her, was watching her suffer knowing that there was no hope of recovery.
   
I know I don't need to tell you how I was feeling. In a surreal state I took her dog bed from the car and put it on the grass outside the clinic. We lifted her onto the bed and the vet left me alone with her to say goodbye. I held her in my arms, buried my head in her face and comforted her. Her passing was very peaceful.
   
I miss her terribly. She was the sweetest, most loyal, joyful little girl who never tired of playing bally. Chaos became the "Top Dog" of the household after Brunzi died, sharing meals, accompanying me whenever possible, and in general receiving "special status." Aside from her ballies, she loved her humans — especially her Mom. She was a devoted and constant companion, always at my side. Some people might find it annoying to have a dog always underfoot, but I loved her constant presence and I was never alone. She was a comfort and a joy, the shining embodiment of a true and loyal companion. I was so blessed to have her as my friend.
   
After she developed pneumonia last November, I made it a point to play with her whenever she asked. In retrospect, I am so grateful that every time she barked to play bally, every time she grabbed my arm from the computer, I dropped everything I was doing and proceeded to play with her and her beloved ballies. No matter how much work I had, or how many chores, or whether or not I was "in the mood" to go out and play, I did it and did so gratefully that she was happy and well. (So now you know that when some of your packages arrived later than expected or when I didn't answer the phone, I was playing bally with Chaos). We always ended the play sessions with kisses on her snoot as I told her how much she was loved. The relief and comfort that this now brings me is indescribable. I only wish I had done this throughout her entire life.
   
One very interesting and comforting phenomenon occurred. Earlier in the week I noticed fireflies in the woods which made me think of my childhood, when my sister and I would go to the park and catch them in jars. When I saw the fireflies several days earlier, I looked up at the sky and told my deceased sister that every time I saw fireflies I thought of her. Prior to Chaos' passing I again looked up at the sky and told my sister that she now had another one of my furchildren to take care of. I asked her to help comfort Chaos as she made her transition. After the vet had finished, he sat on the lawn in silence as I cried into Chaos' fur. A few moments later he said to me, "I don't know if this means anything, but we're suddenly surrounded by millions of fireflies."
   
As I was driving home, I again noticed the fireflies — especially the one that flew in the car window and rested on my arm. I kept watching it, and marveled at the fact that its light never went out. I continued driving for an hour, constantly glancing at the firefly whose light never went out. When we arrived home, I told the still-lit firefly out of the car and placed it back in the woods, thanking my sister for letting me know that all was well.
   
I know that Chaos is safe, that she is running with her beloved brother Brunzi, and that my sister is taking care of them. I also know that just like the firefly in my car, the light of spirit never goes out.
   
If you want to honor Chaos' life, please go and kiss your beloved fursnoot(s) right now, tell them how much you love them, and play their favorite game or do their favorite activity. Try not to let a single day go by without giving them the attention they so cherish and deserve. And if you're ever tempted to skip that play session because you're too busy or too overworked, think of these words:

"He is your friend, your partner, your defender, your dog.
You are his life, his love, his leader.
He will be yours, faithful and true, to the last beat of his heart.
You owe it to him to be worthy of such devotion."

         
If I may ask one special favor — if you are so inclined, please say a prayer from my little girl, wishing her comfort and joy and peace.

Thank you so much, Carol, BarnesBerry, Red Boy, and Brunzi at the Rainbow Bridge   

Carol also enclosed Chaos' ODE TO BALLY, which was published in the May 1998 issue of The Enchanted Connections Review: Healing The Earth Through Education.

ODE TO BALLY by Chaos

O bally of mine!
O bally divine!
I woof my bally so
I swim with my bally,
I sleep with my bally,
I bring bally into the snow.

When I'm sleeping in bed,
And Mom wants me up instead,
Nothing will rouse me more
Than the sweet sound of bally
Bouncing & bouncing
All over the kitchen floor.

When it's time to eat
My veggies & meat,
Bally is there in my meal
And bally is needed
For commands to be heeded
And if Mom expects me to heel.

I don't care about treats
Or toys that go "squeak,"
For I'm obsessed with bally, you see,
I have 63 ballies
And each one is precious
And dearly loved by me.