Winston Clark

Winston (Churchy) – 8/23/16 – 8/13/23

 

Today Tim and I said goodbye to our handsome boy Winston. It’s impossible to sum up how my life has changed since bringing a tiny 7-week old bluetick coon-hound into my life. Our baby “Wise Winston” (also known as Churchy) taught me some of the hardest life lessons in the short 7 years that I was lucky to have him as my shadow.

 

Winston was born to be my dog. I knew immediately he was meant to be my dog when he began searching out every ounce of sunny sky on the cloudiest of days, exactly as I do, and reminding me that we can find the best part of a seemingly cloudy day as long as we are driven and look hard enough. I couldn’t get enough of his “hound-ness” from his brilliant voice, to his houndy-smell and his velvet ears, and he showed me what it really means to love, to forgive, to have courage, to push forward, and most-important I think, to live in the moment. Smell the air, because there is always something interesting to take in. Listen to the sounds, because curiosity is what sets us apart. And watch for the butterflies (me) or birds (Winston) because their beauty, when rarely shared with us, shouldn’t be missed.

 

Winston has been faced with adversity since he was just shy of a year old…itchy with allergies his entire life, oral melanoma first at age 4 and renal lymphoma just 1 short week ago. And through it all he looked to me, with humor at times I’m sure, to try all the things, to do all the tests, to call my sisters with all the questions and to ultimately make the best decision Tim and I could at the time. He trusted us, he fought for us, and we are certain he knew that we would do anything possible for him to be a happy boy.

 

I’ve spent a lot of alone with Winston in the past year as his melanoma came back and we were forced to take more drastic treatment measures. His initial 3-5 months quickly turned into 2 years before we knew it. Together we have driven to endless dermatology, oncology and radiation appts. We would round the corner to the clinic, the smell of the air would change, and the baying would begin. He was happy to go to the vet because his incredible care team made it just another fun day out with momma.

 

Winston, Momma loves you for you and for all your hound ways, but also for trusting us when every decision felt impossible. I know you’re baying your way over the rainbow bridge and daddy, Walter and I will watch over and take meticulous care of your yard while you watch from afar. When the sun shines on my face I will know it’s because you’re with me.

 

Night night Churchy, Momma loves you.