Not even an hour later we were in the car. Me, Mom, and our puppy who would eventually be called "Coco" for Coco Chanel, (he also happened to be a Cocoa color). The name suited him perfectly. Me and my mom drove around to find a place to buy all the things we'd need for our new puppy, my first puppy. Afterwards, we took coco to introduce him to my grandparents, who loved him instantly. Coco met Mitzie, my grandmas Yorkie, first. And watching them play was the happiest thing. I was only about 9 or 10 at the time and me and cocos first picture together was precious. He was sitting on the wooden plank that was the handrail of my grandparents huge porch, with my hands wrapped around him and my face against his back.
As the years went on, the pictures flooded in. Pictures with clothes and sweaters and coats and Halloween costumes. Pictures at the Ponce Inlet dog beach. Pictures with shared ice cream cones and pictures of bedtime. Pictures of him sleeping, pictures of him playing. Videos of his tricks my mom taught him. Coco was incredible. He was always happy to see you when you came home. He was the first to greet you when you came home and the first to sit on your lap when you were on the toilet. Coco loved children, If he so much as saw a kid he wanted to interact with them and enjoy a good petting. When we took coco to the park or to Lake Eola, kids would overcome their shy reserves to ask "Can I pet your dog?" Coco was practically iconic. He meant everything to me. He was my best friend and the one person who would come and lick my face and sit with me when he heard me crying from stress or anger or sadness. He knew how to make people feel good. He was a real dog. He made his purpose other people, never himself.
We had coco for 9 years, which in retrospect was nothing at all. Not even a fraction of the time i had intended to love him and be with him. About 3 weeks ago, coco began to get sick. He wasn't eating like he usually was. He was tired, didn't want to do much besides lay on his bed with his blanket and his favorite toys. We found out later that he has lung cancer, and that it has spread. We kept coco for about 5 days after we got this news. Those last 5 days were made to be the best five days he would have. He had all his favorite foods, he went to the beach and saw the dolphins at ponce inlet one last time. I carried my now skinny dying dog across the beach in his red blanket as he fell asleep against my shoulder. It was the saddest thing I ever had to go through. I'm a firm believer that things happen for a reason and there's always a good side. In that situation, there was no good side that was worth losing coco over.
On February 4th me and my parents took coco and put him to sleep. We promised him he wouldn't suffer, and we kept our promise. I still miss him and the fact that hes in Heaven makes me sad...but it also makes me happy to. He knows peace. He knows absolute beauty and happiness of his own. Hes with all the dogs my friends had ironically lost just weeks before himself. Coco is free, and hes still here. At first I was angry with God. Now I understand. This wasn't meant to make people sad, or make people feel sorry. This was meant to be a solace and an affirmation of love, and a reminder to love your dogs and take good care of them. You never know when you're seeing the last of them.
We love you coco, We'll be missing you and some day, seeing you.
Love Always, B
