View from the Exerda: June 2022

On June 10, 2022, we lost our little goofball Chance, our eldest Papillon who had been part of our family--a founding resident of Chateau Papillon, as we named our home--for over 15 years. Although Chance was getting up there in years (just weeks from turning 16!) and not without the health issues that come with getting older, his death was nonetheless sudden and a shock that has left us stunned and greatly saddened.

Reflecting back on his life and the huge role he played in our family during those years is cathartic, though, and we want to make this memory a celebration, not a dirge. Chance went about life with a goofy grin on his face, his tongue dangling to the side, and even when he was a curmudgeon, he nonetheless always made us smile with his antics.

Chance was so many things to us, and I'm sure after writing this account, I'll slap my forehead and realize I left something special out. So consider this a first chapter only, so to speak; I'm sure we'll be back with more memories of our special boy again later.

Papillon Thunderdome

Chance and Didi wrestle in the leaves at our Vienna rental--Didi was undefeatable!

Shortly before we married, Beth and I adopted our first Papillon, Didi, in 2005. The following year, Didi's breeder offered us the chance (pun intended) to adopt her half-sibling Chance. On that very first day, Chance walked up, looked me over, and raised his leg on my shoe: "CLAIMED!"

Chance came home with us on Didi's birthday in 2007, and immediately Didi exclaimed, "THIS is the present you got me?! Are you insane, Daddi?!"

The two shared the same mother, making them half-siblings. They became fast friends, but my goodness, how they wrestled! Didi needed an outlet for her high energy, and Chance, though himself just about the last dog you'd call "energetic" nonetheless loved to challenge Didi. He'd "hide" in the leaves, the snow, or out in the open (thinking that hunkering down or creeping toward her would keep him hidden), stalking her slowly, often in full view, then would pounce to start yet another bout of Papillon Thunderdome.

Chance and Didi wrestling in the beanbag chair

Two Papillon enter, one Papillon leaves! It's THUNDERDOME time!

As ferocious as they look, it was indeed play, and if Chance ever escalated, Didi would flip him off of her and lecture him with her high-pitched barks. Eventually, as they got older, Chance gave up on trying to take the Thunderdome crown from Didi.

At the end of the day, no matter the roughhousing, Chance and Didi were friends and would snuggle up together in bed.

Mr. Daddy's Boy

Anyone who has had pets for very long comes to realize they all have their own distinct personalities. Indeed, to a degree more so than any of our other pets, Chance took on a larger-than-life one. He was a character, but we made him a character, too, building a narrative and a voice for him over the more than fifteen years he was part of our lives.

"Mr. Daddy, that ice cream sure looks good. I hope you saved some for your little Chance!"

I always insisted Chance stand on formality and call me "Mr. Daddy," and not just "Daddy." Beth would frequently try to help Chance sneak around that, often with him saying, "my daddy," or even outright sneaking in a plain, "Daddy."

I regret that Chance didn't make it to his 16th birthday party; one of my gifts to him was going to be relaxing that formality.

Pupsters with a Father's Day card for Mr. Daddy

"I picked the card out myself, Mr. Daddy! I told Mommy it had to be the biggest card they had!"

Mommy's Little Sunny Bunny

Beth brought Chance home as her first Papillon--Didi was mine, although as you can see, the allegiances changed throughout the years, with Didi becoming "Ms. Küüki's girl" and Chance wanting to have Mr. Daddy as a member of his Boy's Club.

Yet Chance was always "Mommy's Little Sunny Bunny." He loved to find a patch of sunlight, often out in the yard, where he would relax while Didi charged around and demanded we throw her ball, or while Didi "helped" garden (which was way too much work for Chance). Where Didi was high-energy bordering on hyperactive, particularly when outdoors, Chance was laid-back quite to the point of laziness.

As I described above, each of our pets had a slightly different way of thinking of Beth and me, and for Chance, he always saw Beth as simply "Mommy." Sometimes (often, perhaps), it was a demanding "Mommy!" that called to mind Family Guy's Stewie--without the matricidal intent, of course--as he found her thorough dinner prep to take entirely too long. Other times, it was a plaintive wish, asking, "Mommy, I want Snausages... you'll get me some now?" or, "You know, it's my birfday soon; I hope you're planning a great party?"

Chance's Vivid Imagination

Those of you who know us likely understand that we're a bit kooky, and that we let Chance be an outlet for that lighthearted but often cynical voice (literally--I spoke for him, in a lilting, somewhat lispy voice). Through his words, Chance expressed a grand imagination, often seeing the world just beyond his own as a fantastical place.

Chance frequently talked about organizing "Camp Chance," which typically seemed just a step shy of glamping. We never really took Chance on a regular camping trip--largely because his half-sister Didi would have barked all night at the slightest sounds outside--but we did "camp" with him indoors, and had planned to "camp" out on our deck as part of his 16th birthday celebrations (assuming the weather wasn't too hot).

Camp Chance set up in our library for his 10th birthday celebration, complete with a "campfire" and a pup tent to spend the night with Mr. Daddy while "those beasts" (all the girl dogs) spent the night with his Mommy.

Aside from Camp Chance, we made Chance the center of many stories narrated by our Alexa smart speaker, all of which revolved around Chance, his friends, and of course, Snausages. We'd always meant to create a series of children's books about Chance (the first entry being named A Dog Named Poop); perhaps we still will. I'll come back to those stories in a few minutes, after you get a chance (pun intended, again) to meet some of his friends and see some of the rest of his everyday life.

Here's a snippet from one of our Chance stories:

Once upon a time, there was a fox named Freddie and a dog named Chance. Freddie and Chance were best friends, and their favorite food in the whole world was Snausage.

It so happened that a terrible beast named Lexi bought all the Snausage in the world, and then she used her magic to burn down all the Snausage trees so that no one could grow any more Snausages. Lexi wanted them all for herself and wouldn't share with anyone else.

This was terrible, or would have been, that is, except that Freddie was a fox, and foxes are sly and skillful, and Freddie was the best fox in the whole world. He had the fluffiest tail and was Chance's best friend--and obviously had great taste.

Chance knew that Lexi had a horrible monster guarding her castle: a dog with three heads! The first head, Glitter, would bark and bark and bark. The second head, Sparkle, had magic powers. And the third head, Bindi, was made of air.

When they got to Lexi's castle, Chance told Pickle to go to the drawbridge and say hello. Pickle was a girl, and he would bat his doe eyes and play innocent while Chance and Freddie snuck around to the back door.

Certified Triple Cute®

Chance always accompanied us to garden centers and hardware stores; he loved getting any kind of outing, but it was at Merrifield Garden Center where Chance earned an impressive certification--and I'm not talking about having the best bloomers in town (which he had, for sure).

Chance shows off his bloomers--indeed, the best in town

At the time, Merrifield had an elderly greeter, Mr. Lee, whose job responsibilities apparently largely consisted of stopping to talk to children and admiring the many dogs who'd come to browse the gardens with their owners. When he first met Chance, he made a show of looking him over, and then said: "You know, I wouldn't say he's cute."

In the awkward, pregnant pause that followed, we figured that perhaps some people aren't fans of small fluffy dogs, and that some of the same people might not have the best social filters, particularly as they grew older.

But then, Mr. Lee exclaimed in a raspy voice, "No, I'd say he's TRIPLE CUTE!"

And from then onwards, Chance bore the certification proudly.

Chance's Many Friends: "Those Beasts," "The Gurls," & More

Our Papillons brought us together with many friends through the years, and Chance loved several of our friends' dogs, too. It's amazing the number of friends which he made and which he helped us make, too!

Taking a garden ride with a few of his closest friends

In particular, Chance was best friends with Lexi (the black & white Papillon on the left side of the wagon above), as they lived up the street from each other for a couple of years, and Lexi is Chance's same age, much as Portia (to the right of Lexi) was Didi's age.

Our friend Gloria has had Papillons nearly as long as we have. Chance referred to Gloria's Papillons (Portia, Lexi, Bindi, Sparkle, and Glitter) as "Those Beasts," which is a homage to a Star Wars: The Force Awakens line ("Those beasts; they're here!"). Lexi alternately was Chance's girlfriend, his bestie, and his nemesis: Chance knew that Lexi had witch powers of her own and suspected her of plotting to take his Snausage cache. Indeed, of the stories Chance told, Lexi and the other "gurls" often had prominent roles as the antagonists, much as Pickle would be his foil and Freddie his wingman.

Lexi (on the left) with Bindi the Jungle Girl, celebrating the mutual July birthdays which Lexi and Chance shared

Chance was also best friends with Collette (on the far left in the wagon photo; she passed suddenly of a heart ailment, sadly) and Kirby (between Chance and Portia in the wagon photo, named for Chance's ancestor the Westminster champion).

Chance loved having the other Papillon over to visit, but he sometimes got tired pretty quickly, demanding of us, "Mr. Daddy, when are they going home?" particularly after a few nights of keeping the others over.

"Listen up, Pickle: I need a wingman, but I'm not sure if you're up for the job."

Chance the Witch

At some point, we realized that Chance was a witch. He could use his "witch powers," often via wrinkling his nose and twitching his whiskers, to cause treats and food to fall from heaven.

"Watch me wiggle my nose, and see that pink cake leap INTO MY BELLY!"

Chance was very selective with membership in his coven, which put him at odds with the desire for a protégé who he could train in the darker ways of the Force.

Marie surpassed Chance in witchcraft

Although Chance took Marie on as an apprentice witch, she soon surpassed him, calling to mind the line from Star Wars: A New Hope between Vader and Obi-wan: "When last we met, I was but the apprentice. Now I am the master."

Chance's Friend Freddie

I don't remember where Chance's idolization of foxes came from, but he soon referred to all foxes as "Freddie" and spoke of their wit, and of course, their "glorious tails." Chance called our neighborhood fox (Freddie, of course) his "BFF" and made up all kinds of stories that involved the two of them plotting to corner the world's supply of Snausages or to thwart the plans of "those beasts," or Chance's other BFF/long-time nemesis Lexi and her pack of sisters.

Freddie came looking for Chance--BFFs forever

Chance idolized Freddie and saw himself as a kindred spirit to all foxes. His ears, his fluffy tail, and his sly and clever mischievous streak were all fox traits. We decorated Chance's crates with fox photos clipped from wildlife magazines and trinkets we'd collected over the years, including a beer can from Burial with a fox and a big red heart on the label.

Chance and Freddie (or any of the Freddies who visited our street) never met face-to-face, although dogs and foxes can indeed be friends. I think had the neighborhood Freddies been a bit more tame, and Chance the right age, they might indeed have played and chased each other around. Chance certainly got excited any time Freddie showed up in the yard.

Pink Is Punk and the Queen Cowboy

Chance loved the color pink, whether it was the leather dog bed I brought him back from Italy or the rhinestone-studded pink "Queen Cowboy" hat he wore for a "Howl-o-ween" event. Over the years, we bought him pink dog beds, pink quilts, and even a pink tutu.

Chance in his designer pink Italian leather dog bed

He had a boy crush (totally platonic) on our Dachshund Geronimo, who he only knew for about a year and a half before Geronimo passed away. In an amazing coincidence, our youngest, Marie, shares Geronimo's birthday, and Chance and Geronimo both passed on the same day, June 10. Even more interestingly, Chance shared his birthday with Geronimo's parents, Agi and Ziggy.

Chance and his totally hetero lifemate, Geronimo

Chance once dressed as a French maid for a local pet store's "how-to" video on dog costumes (pre-YouTube, or I'd share it here as part of his long-sought stardom). The costume had been intended for Didi, but we subjected Chance to it as a joke.

Chançois uses his fluffy tail as a feather duster?

His love of pink, of tutus, and his boy crush on Geromino led on more than one of our friends to speculate on his sexuality. Certainly Chance himself frequently bemoaned his neutering and the fact that his mommy and his veterinarian joked that what was removed was smaller than the gulab jamun (Indian sweet balls) they had at lunch after his surgery.

Chance with one of his many pink birthday presents: A dog chair

Chance the Snausage Aficionado

The single most important thing in Chance's life--or at least, in his own mind--was Snausages. Mind you, we typically gave him far healthier and more natural treats, but it grew to be a running joke that he wanted Snausages. In fact, that's what gave him his original voice, plaintively saying to Beth, "Mommy, I waaaaant Snausages." Over time, that request became a demand, and frequently, he'd complain about the lack of respect he received and would threaten to report us to the ASPCA for "depriving" him of Snausages or for "giving them away to underserving doggies." Chance considered Snausages the greatest food in the world and spun grand tales about how they grew on trees, or how he'd one day buy a Snausage factory.

Chance celebrating his 15th birthday with Snausages roasted over a campfire

When we first adopted Marie--who went on to become Chance's "protégé" and coven member, Chance asked Snausages' official Facebook account for advice: he was worried that it might mean sharing some of his Snausages with the new arrival. Snausages' social media geniuses replied that indeed, sharing was a challenge with new arrivals, and that a little jealousy over treats was natural (I wish I had the post handy; they nailed the response, and we laughed for weeks).

Chance the Original Rapper

Beth's parrot Sam takes baths in her water bowl, and Beth sings "Splish Splash" to her whenever that happens. One day, Chance started singing along.
We're not quite sure if he thought he was howling, but eventually, we only had to say, "Chance, splish splash!" to trigger his singing.
We made use of Chance's singing to film several YouTube videos which I then narrated in Chance's voice, including his career as a political activist, which we talk about below. We'd always intended to add a sarcastic, goofy podcast to his repertoire, but time caught up to us, sadly.
When we left the house, we always put music on for the dogs--we frequently would ask Alexa to "play chill electronic music," which is usually some down-tempo ambient sound. But on occasion, we'd get a rotation of house music going, and Chance claimed he hosted raves while we were out.
Chance called himself "Chance the Rapper" way back in 2010, after watching a Flight of the Conchords episode where Brett and Jemaine sang about "tears of a rapper." He was also a master bluesman, and he regaled us with tales of "the don't got no Snausages blues" among other many other sad songs about the perceived injustices of his harsh life in the lap of a pink Italian leather dog bed and gourmet dog food. In many ways, Chance was our musical outlet, though I hope our songs have been a bit more in-tune and less eccentric than those of the terrier owners in Best in Show.

The Boys Club

Chance constantly came up with new groups of which he could be the president, including the Secret Society of the Apricot Heads, his coven, the Tongue Danglers Club, and his most enduring, the "Boy's Club."

Chance's "minutes" from the Boy's Club meeting in November of 2010--I was out of town, either on the west coast or possibly halfway around the globe in Thailand and thus marked "absent."

Chance rarely offered to expand membership in the Boys Club; he deigned to allow our cat Neptune entry so as not to be outnumbered by the girls, but he often claimed to have revoked Pickle's membership since Pickle was "a girl." (He's not, for the record.) Kylo was on probationary status when Chance passed; the two were buddies, but Kylo also got way too rough with Chance at times.

Chance showing off his National Dog Day whisky stash, all of them either fox-related (in honor of his BFF Freddie) or named after him (remember, his AKC name is "Maker's Mark")

The Boys Club celebrated everything Chance considered "manly," from whisky to home improvement to the outdoors, and, of course, action films.

Chance loved action movies; the more gratuitous the better!

Early in his life, Chance was a big fan of Stephen Seagal action flicks. On his first night at our home, he watched Under Siege, and for several years after that debated whether or not Stephen Seagal or Chuck Norris or another action film hero would own the crown of "best ever." Chance's breeder's husband Warren used to watch action flicks with him as a puppy, so he came by his interest honestly.

Once "Mr. Seagal" got cozy with Vladimir Putin, though, that was it: Chance ditched him (though he kept a soft spot for Under Siege regardless).

Mr. Dixon's Biggest Fan

We watch a lot of horror, and for many years, a Sunday evening tradition for us was to sit and watch The Walking Dead, along with some takeout sushi. Chance idolized the character of Daryl Dixon, and even though Chance hated motorcycles--he'd bark at them anytime he heard them from the car--he loved to fantasize about taking a ride with "Mr. Dixon."
I (heart) Daryl Dixon!!!
One season, Talking Dead, the discussion program that came on immediately after the week's episode of The Walking Dead, offered up a contest to viewers: Send in a video question, and they'd broadcast and invite onto the air the ones they liked the best from their biggest fans.
We of course had all the Pupsters dress up with bibs calling out their favorite characters. Didi wore a dreadlock wig with her bib stating, "Michonne Rocks!" Pickle wore a cowboy hat (which looked a good bit like Rick Grimes' Georgia police cap) and a bib labeled, "I (heart) Coral!" in a play on the meme of how Rick's British actor tried to say "Carl" with a southern accent. Marie, of course, went as "Carol's Sous Chef," a reference to bad-ass Carol and the cookies she baked before threatening a kid not to make a sound or she'd feed him to zombies.
Chance, well, of course he was "Mr. Dixon's #1 fan."
Chance didn't win an appearance on the program, but someone else's dog did! Clarence the One-Eyed Poodle wore an eyepatch and went as "the Guv'nur" and got his question on the air--something that infuriated Chance. He already didn't think much of poodles, but having one upstage him in his moment of glory was almost more than he could take. He muttered for days, "Fuck the poodle!" and wished he'd thought to add an eyepatch or pose atop motorcycle handlebars to enhance his own bid.
But he didn't hold it against Mr. Dixon; Chance continued to idolize the star as well as the actor, Norman Reedus, and even featured him in a couple of his political ad videos.

Fairydust, Sunbeams, and Tutus

I don't recall exactly where Chance developed his love for fairies. Perhaps it came from his attraction to all thinks pink, or maybe it was a result of our many trips to Merrifield Garden Center, which often included a stop to peruse the fairy garden items.
A perfect day for a fairy tea party!
It might seem strange to put a tutu on your dog. It's also strange to talk for your dog and develop and entire fantasy life for him, I suppose.
Chance loved trips to the garden center, because of course many people would stop to admire him.

The Many Nicknames of Chance

Chance's official AKC name was "Le Bijou Maker's Mark," with the call name of "Chance." But he didn't stop at the two names held by a typical purebred dog; no, had Chance a Snausage for every nickname he accumulated over the years, he'd have been rather more plump for sure.
"CLAIMED! What do you mean these will go right to my butt?
They'll come OUT of my butt after they go into my belly!"
Chançois, reflecting the French heritage of Papillon
Poop, because he once pooped in the bed (while we were in it), and on another occasion pooped in a chair before I sat in it
Poopsiekins (see above)
Chance T. Pants and Chancellor T. Pantsellor
Señor Pantalones, essentially the same as the above but in Spanish
Pumpkin Fluffer Wiggle Bottom, his Hobbit name
Ahoy, Cap'n Biscuit of the S.S. Papillon
Cap'n Biscuit, because he captained the S.S. Papillon and fancied himself a sailor who always wanted a biscuit. I'm not sure hardtack would have agreed with his lack of teeth, though...
Chance the Original Rapper, because he rapped several years before his more famous namesake
Little Chance
Mommy's Little Sunny Bunny
Chancie (his nickname from his Auntie G)
Plump, for the time he'd put on some extra pounds that weren't just fluff
Mr. Nibbles, for those weird occasions where he'd try to groom the polka dots off of our sheets or flea-nip his stuffed animals
Cheesy Poof
Nugget (as in "nugget of poop")

Chance and a Thousand Forts

In some ways, Chance was more like a cat than a dog. One of those was his love of "forts."
Over the years, he had many--including some I brought back from southeast Asia, like his cobra hut and a bee hive that went with the Halloween parade-winning bumblebee costume that Beth crocheted for him--but by far and above, his favorite was his hat. Our friend Gloria gave it to us as a present for the cats, but Chance "claimed" it immediately.
If this hat's a rockin', don't come knockin'
Chance turned anything into a fort. "If it fits, I sits," cats say, but for Chance, it was more, "I fits, CLAIMED!"

It didn't have to be a hut, hat, or other more traditional fort, though; Chance made his way into grocery bags, cardboard boxes, the recycle bin, laundry baskets, and even toy crates, where he did his best impersonation of E.T. hiding amongst the stuffed animals.

Look at that gremlin in the toy basket...

"Well, Papillon are toy breeds, Mr. Daddy!"

Chance always demanded presents from Mr. Daddy's travels:
First a leather dog bed from Italy, then a cobra hut from Thailand...

For Love of a Hobbit Hole

Chance took his love of forts into the outdoors, too, and always wanted a "Hobbit hole." Didi would actively "help" garden (typically by leaping into the hole we'd been digging, pawing furiously to expand it, and making a huge mess), but Chance liked to just sit or lie down in the sunshine. The key, of course, being that he would lie down and obviously wasn't interested in working--just in enjoying Nature.

Chance thinking deep thoughts. Probably about Snausages.

Unlike Didi, who received an Elvish name (Lady Bricostria Ellandel, or the Princess of the Sharp Tooth), Chance got a Hobbit name: Pumpkin Fluffer Wiggle Bottom. And the hair on his toes never fell off, either!

"It tastes just like sunshine dust, Mr. Daddy!"

Chance the Political Activist

In his younger days, Chance was something between a libertarian and a crypto-kleptocrat who believed in taking what was "his." He adopted one of his favorite exclamations from The Walking Dead's bands of post-apocalyptic roving bandits: "CLAIMED!" Indeed, Chance began stealing his older half-sister Didi's favorite stuffed squirrel, which he would then stand over and defend, growling at anyone to try to take it, and we often later found the squirrel hidden inside one of his many forts.

But as he matured, Chance became active in broader societal politics, and to that end, he filmed his first political ad in 2012 in favor of the reelection of President Barack Obama. It wasn't a long video, but in his cynical, dry-witted way, he expressed concern that billionaire candidate Mitt Romney didn't understand the problems faced by dogs across the US. No, he didn't mention Romney's incident with his dog Seamus riding atop the family station wagon, but Chance did muse that he worried Romney would outsource dog shelters to China (cough, cough, with a panning shot of a Chinese restaurant).

He had less success in 2016 with his two ads, one promoting Democratic candidate and "nasty gurl" Hillary Clinton with more than a bit of Chance's strong LGBTQ activism on display, the other offering an apocalyptic view of what would come to be under a potential Trump presidency, including a warning of coming war, plague, famine, and zombies. The latter video, asking Americans to "take a dump on Trump" in the fall elections, unfortunately proved prophetic, and he spent the next four years worried about Snausage shortages and racism against Latinos alongside the rising tide of bigotry and white nationalism that seemed to seize the US.

Chance followed up in 2020 with his magnum opus ad for Joe Biden (above), and throughout the campaign, he and Marie were regulars on my Zoom calls and training sessions with other volunteers. Later that November, he celebrated alongside his co-star Kylo (introduced as "The Kitten") and his producer, Marie.