It’s just about one year since the death of our much beloved black Labrador, Chamo. The greatest dog to ever walk the face of the earth. And while I realize I might be biased because I had the pure joy and honor of being his mom, seriously. Chamo was amazing.

Lola, our little silver Lab, is now six months. She’s been with us for about four of those six months. She’s enormous, hungry all of the time, still chewing us to bits (although she finally lost all of her razor-sharp baby teeth) and eating moose poop. Lovely, right? She is still a puppy, so I’m giving her a little leeway there. But the rest of her? Her personality, her temperament, her fierce loyalty and love of tennis balls? It’s all Chamo. So much so that on many occasions, I’ve looked her in her gorgeous amber eyes and said, “Chamo? Is that you? Are you in there?” Much of it, I’m sure, can be credited to the breed. But the rest of it? Eerie.

And you know what else is a little eerie? How much Pea misses Chamo. She was barely older than two when he left us. She remembers taking him to the vet in the middle of the night, with Coco and myself. She remembers he had a “boo-boo” on his back. But until recently? She thought we just left him there, at the doctor’s office. But about one week ago, as we were looking at a tiny photograph of Chamo that she keeps on her bedside table, she calmly explained to me that she misses Chamo, but that he died. Uh, excuse me? What did my 3-year old child just say? Something about death? Whoa. What the? Where the? Huh? So I asked her, just as casually, who told her about dying? She was unclear, just said that she knew about it.

Turns out that my husband has taken it upon himself to school her in the lessons of life. Or, more significantly, death. Told me that he wasn’t going to pretend it wasn’t a fact of life, that he wouldn’t sugar-coat anything with our girls. And although I’m not exactly telling Pea stories about dropping Chamo off at the world’s largest farm where he can chase Frisbees all day long, I honestly wish that he’d discussed his plans to be so brutally open and honest with our daughter with me, before diving in to something so deep that it’s difficult to get out of. There are some things that I just really feel parents must be on the same page to tackle the topic effectively. One of those topics is religion, the other is death. We’re trying to teach her not to be scared of her bedroom, the dark, the moon? And my husband is teaching her that sometimes people leave? Forever? That’s not going to scare her back into our room now, is it?

To further complicate matters, someone else that I have a lot of respect for recommended that we read Pea a book by the guy who writes the ‘Arthur’ series of books. But after reading some reviews of “When Dinosaurs Die,” I made the decision it was not for Pea. Not now. We have no need to deal with suicide brought on by an overwhelming feeling of hopelessness, death by overdose, etc. A bit too heavy for a preschooler, in this lay-person’s mind. But then I remembered a book from my own childhood that my mother read to me, called “The Fall of Freddie the Leaf: A Story of Life for All Ages,” by Leo Buscaglia. I think it was when my grandfather passed away, but I’m not all that certain really what tragic occurrence brought this book into my life. But I still have it, packed away in a box somewhere, and I intend to rip through as many cartons tomorrow as I have to in order to find it. It’s about the cycles of life, rather than just poof! Someone you love is gone because they couldn’t bear to be here on this earth any more and so they ended their own life. Seriously, a 3-year old? What were they thinking?

And one other book that comes to mind is one that was sent to us by Chamo’s veterinarian and vet tech, who were among two of his biggest fans. About one month after he passed, we opened a package and were greeted with an incredible book, that they’d both inscribed with the most loving words. Words that I needed to hear so very much, at the time. It’s called, “Dog Heaven,”and I think it’s much more appropriate for a child Pea’s age, who is dealign with the loss of a pet. Pea has enough fears right now, without adding death to the list.