I have heard you speak about how precious your dogs are to you so I am pretty sure you will appreciate how I feel at this moment.
For ten years, our couch was occupied by a beautiful wheaten dog we called Cocoa. Nobody could figure out what breed she was. The groomers said terrier. The vet said Picardi Shepherd. Hubby's cousin said Irish Wolfhound. She had looks in common with all of those breeds, but we just settled on mutt. She was just about 5 months old when she came to live with us and our 4 year old son. We were told she might only grow to be a medium sized dog, maybe 40-50 pounds. But when she reached that size, she didn't stop. By the time she was one and a half, she was knocking my son over as he walked in the door from school. She finally settled at around 65 pounds. (Once he whispered to me, "Mom, can 't we get a smaller dog?" I said, "No.")
My son had trouble getting to sleep alone in his room for many years (he had a night terror when he was 2) and nothing I tried on him worked until we got Cocoa to stay in his room with him until he fell asleep. She resented being made to stay in one place for too long, but she'd do it for a treat. Just about 3 years ago, my son outgrew the whole nighttime fear thing, and Cocoa was relieved of her duty.
For a number of years, Cocoa occupied the yard as well. I don't know quite how it happened as I never actively trained her, but she knew her boundaries. Our next door neighbor half adopted her, so Cocoa felt just as comfortable lying in their yard as she did in her own. She had one spot in particular, though, in the front corner of our front yard, where she spent most of her lazy afternoons. Passersby were amazed at how calm she was as they walked by with their dogs on leashes pulling and whining to get to Cocoa to do a meet and greet. Cocoa just laid there and watched them as they walked past. (However, as they got past the boundary of the yard, she'd often get up to inspect markings and remark them, just so everyone knew for the next time.) The mail delivery lady had a treat for her every time she delivered our mail (I even took photos, video and "friended" her on Facebook) The UPS delivery lady would stop her truck, get out just to give Cocoa a treat, pet her, and get back in her truck and continue on her route. Cocoa touched many lives, many more than I am probably even aware of, just by being a fixture on our front lawn. She had many admirers.
She would get almost as excited to see the next door neighbors return home from a trip or errand as when we returned from somewhere. In fact, she also had no qualms about walking through their front door if it meant that she'd get a "YumYum" treat. Sometimes, if it was a really warm and humid day, she'd hang out with the neighbors in their air conditioned home for a while.
She was so in love with my hubby. On weekends when he went outside to work on a vehicle or do lawn work, she'd be right there by his side. She refused to stay in the house. If he walked out the door and didn't wait for her, she'd get to the door and whine, and then I had to let her out. If he came inside and didn't go back out within a reasonable time frame, she'd bark to come in and be with him.
She was always happiest when we were all together. Sometimes when hubby and I were on the couch (he on one end and I on the other) Cocoa would jump up on the couch and lay in the middle, even if she had to lay on top of our legs.
Just this fall I got serious about walking, and while Cocoa wasn't overweight, I am, so we went on 30 minute walks every day for about the past three weeks. I missed days over the past weekend, so on Tuesday I extended our walk to 45 minutes. On our walks, sometimes people would comment to me how pretty they thought she was and ask what kind of dog she was. I held my head high as we walked past homes with other dogs, usually restrained behind a fence, as they barked and growled at us as we dared to pass by their property. MY dog never did that when she was at home, and all their barking never distracted her from our walk. All I'd have to do is happily say, "C'mon!" and she was right on track with me. I even noticed when I started jogging, she'd pick up the pace and trot right along side me. I decided to use this in my workout, so I alternated between walking and jogging for the last few walks we took together. We were so in sync.
On Wednesday, November 2, she fell ill and my neighbor came with me as we took her to the vet. But by the time the vet had run all the tests she could run, Cocoa was gone. We still don't know for sure why, but the vet suspects a tumor ruptured near her heart causing bleeding that did not show up on the X-ray. My poor hubby had to work, but my wonderful neighbor, who had helped us watch over Cocoa for at least the past 5 years or so, was there for every minute of the ordeal. My son, who turns 15 on Saturday, was brought to the vet's office so he could say good-bye, and we were there holding her and stroking her fur as she left us for another place.
When I was 5 we lost our beloved German Shepherd, Rusty. He was also 10. I don't think I have cried so hard over an animal since that day. Not that I haven't loved our dogs as I was growing up - we had several, but none I was this close to, none I felt really belonged to me like Cocoa did. For the past 7 years, since I quit my job to be a SAHM, I have been the one to care for Cocoa. Now I have no welcoming committee when I arrive home from errands and I have no one to walk with. The silence of her absence is devastating.
I can only hope it will get easier as time goes by, but there will never be another dog like Cocoa.
Thanks for letting me share this story with you. We don't usually consider when we first bring a pet into our homes how difficult it will be to say good-bye to them when their lives are over. We often don't have any way of calculating the impact this pet will have on our lives or on the lives of others. I believe their love and companionship are truly a gift from God. (Oh, and I have an 18-year-old cat, too. I am going to have to go through this again eventually with the cat.)
Sincerely,
Lisa
