It was only a week ago that I posted a light-hearted photo of my writing assistant. Upon reporting for work … late as usual … he’d immediately fallen asleep … 

Curled up next to me on the family room couch.

The couch serves as my workstation, where I punch away on the laptop from which arise Capital Chatter and other musings of my mind.

Gregor the blue standard poodle was my writing coach, my unconditional listener when a quandary arose, and my companion on weekly – sometimes daily – drives to help me think and contemplate before writing.

He was our entertaining four-legged family member, our therapist who listened unconditionally, our excuse for taking more walks and going on more drives around Oregon. He was our ice-breaker when small talk was required. I joked that it was tough having a dog who was smarter, better looking and more athletic than I.

And now he’s gone.

Pneumonia grabbed him quickly.

On Saturday, Gregor was his typical 13-and-a-half-year-old self, racing up and down the hall, throwing his favorite stuffed animal “Duck” atop our bed. On Sunday he woke up shaking and refusing to eat, drink or walk. We moved quickly, involving two veterinary hospitals and our wonderful regular vet, West Salem Animal Clinic.

As long as there’s hope for good quality of life, you do whatever you can for any family member. Saving money for retirement can wait.

We visited Gregor again at the hospital Tuesday afternoon … sharing stories … holding paws and hands … exchanging kisses and nuzzles … offering prayers. He’d rallied. But that evening he crossed the Rainbow Bridge, cradled by a veterinary nurse and her colleagues, blessed by the care and compassion at Wilvet Salem veterinary hospital.

Perhaps part of me feels the need to justify turning today’s Capital Chatter into a column about Gregor.

To note that two-thirds of Oregonians have pets, and nearly all consider them part of the family, according to a statewide survey last year.

To point out that the 2023 Legislature has passed HCR 8, designating “rescued shelter dogs and cats as the official pet of the State of Oregon.”

To remember that 2019 Oregon Kid Governor Erikka Baldwin ran on a platform of helping dogs and cats find their forever home.

To muse that how we treat animals is a measure for how we treat humanity. Early in the 2019 legislative session, Rep. Greg Smith, R-Heppner, urged collaborative and decisive action on homelessness after recounting how his puppies were warmer at night than Salem’s unsheltered population.

To recall how the Oregon Humane Society brought a lunch-hour Snuggle Express of kittens and puppies to help legislators de-stress during the tense conclusion of the 2017 session.

I could go on. But the truth is, writing is how I deal with life. I don’t know what else to do.

In early 2016, I’d written a newspaper column about donating Cubby Bear’s body for use in teaching veterinary students at Oregon State University. A wonderful cocker spaniel with unusual health issues, Cubby was our first dog. He had entered our lives after his older owner’s living circumstances changed.

A Salem couple read that column. They emailed me, said they would be moving to a retirement home and asked whether we’d be interested in adopting their poodle. All I knew about poodles was their haircuts looked frou-frou. And we weren’t looking for a new dog – yet.

We met at Gregor’s house anyway. He and I bonded from the first lick. That he was almost twice the size of Cubby, certainly not a lap dog, didn’t matter. My wife knew we couldn’t say no. And he didn’t have a fancy haircut.

Our 39th wedding anniversary became his adoption day. The hall and family room of our small house became littered with his favorite stuffed toys. He established back-fence détente with a squirrel we nicknamed Squirrely McGee.

He didn’t play favorites. If Rachelle and I both were home, he constantly checked on each of us. If one of us were gone, he’d be at the front window waiting, sometimes having fallen asleep.

He had a delightful way of walking backwards when we approached him. Or he’d follow so closely behind us that he bumped our butt if we stopped without warning.

Oh, Gregor could be ornery. If he got outside unleashed, he’d race down the street to see neighbor dogs, challenging us to catch him. He’d sneak chicken off the kitchen counter and steal from my plate.

He loved car rides – sometimes woofing at this or that – and uncomplainingly wore his canine seat belt. On our travels, we chose motel rooms with big windows that offered him a good view: either traffic or nature.

Two years ago, we started on a Sunday drive toward Falls City and wound up notching one of my bucket-list items: driving to the coast mostly on logging roads. So many trees and plants and smells for Gregor to explore!

That spring we headed across the Cascades to Klamath and Lake counties on a relaxing several-day excursion with Gregor. This year we planned a road trip to Arizona to meet up with family. Without Gregor’s joyful chattering, and rest stops chosen for him, it won’t be the same.

Neither is sitting on the couch alone, writing this Capital Chatter.

A sign at a capital coffee stand says, “Be the person your dog thinks you are.” It’s still advice I should heed.