R.I.P. Coco

R.I.P. Coco

(Born c. 1993, Died 2003)

Coco is gone now.  We took her to the veterinarian tonight and had her put to sleep.  She'd reached the point in just the last day or so where she occasionally gave a yelp of pain when she lay down or got up, as if just moving hurt her.  This is in addition to her rapidly waning strength in her rear legs, and her increasing lack of feeling in her hindquarters (as evidenced by her having accidents apparently without noticing).  She was still gamely interested in playing fetch if we'd throw her toy for her, but her movements weren't as coordinated and her stamina was fading.

Twoson decided that he didn't want to go with us after all, so Snippy and I left him at home while we drove to the vet's office.  We took Coco into one of the exam rooms, where we spoke to the vet, and then she and an assistant brought a blanket in and laid it on the floor.  We coaxed Coco onto it and got her settled down.  Snippy and I fed her a few treats and petted her and talked to her while the vet shaved small spot on her left rear leg.  Then they gave her a big injection of an anaesthetic.  Coco relaxed, put her head down, and lay there quietly for a minute while Snippy and I petted her some more.  The vet used her stethoscope for a moment, then told us, "She's gone."

I took Coco's collar.  Twoson wanted to keep it to remember her by.

Snippy cried a little, and I'll confess to a few manly tears of my own.  When we got home afterward, Twoson hugged his mother and cried a little too.  We'd only had her for a little over two months, but we'll all miss her.  She was a good natured, well trained and friendly dog--even if in her mind affection was inextricably linked to playing fetch.  She was a Labrador Retriever, so that's not too surprising, I guess.  She was pretty indifferent to being petted, but she'd run to get her toy at the slightest sign of attention because, well, F-E-T-C-H, that spells Love!

Goodbye, Coco.
  

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