Cocoa - then and now. When we first knew him, he was a little bundle of chocolate brown fur, with big brown eyes and a funny personality. Yes, I admit that over the years he developed several irritating qualities and idiosyncrasies (is that appropriate to say about a dog?). But his original and primary job was to provide company, entertainment, and distraction for Jessica while I was working, and he certainly has done that for many years. And in the end, despite all his "issues," we loved him.
Cocoa in his youth--what a handsome guy.
This is a fairly recent shot, showing his old man, gray haired face.
He used to frequently have us laughing hysterically when he was young. We called him the "The Hunter." He would sit and stare at and stalk a yellow tennis ball. It would catch his attention, innocently lying on the floor across the room from him; he would sneak up on it, taking maybe 5-10 minutes to creep his way across a small room. He would inch up to it slowly, stealthily, his whole little body so tense with anticipation we could see him trembling; finally, when he was poised a few inches away, he would pounce on it in triumph, and then go off somewhere and proudly chew on and punish his "kill."
He would do absolutely anything for a Milk Bone "cookie" -- sit up, roll over, speak, turn in circles, etc. etc. Happily do anything! All I had to say was, "Do you want a cookie?" and he would go into his whole repertoire of tricks, sometimes without even being prompted.
It's been a few years since we've seen any of these antics. The last few years he's gone deaf and nearly blind, and it's been a long time since he's been enthralled by a yellow tennis ball. He's seemed content just to get a scratch here and there, an occasional cookie, and a nice soft blanket to curl up on. He's also gotten a bit senile, I think, over the last couple of years, and has been more difficult to live with (who of us is not more difficult to live with as we age?). For instance, whenever he was alone, or thought he was alone, he would start hysterically howling, almost screaming, and would keep that up for a minute or two. (One of my friends, when she heard the howling over the phone, nicknamed him "Psycho Dog.") At first, we could just call to him; he would realize he wasn't alone and would stop. But since he's gone deaf, that wasn't even possible; we had to walk over to him and touch him, and he would calm down. Difficult for us AND our neighbors. But, he was an "old man," as I always said, and we just kind of cut him a break, so to speak, and lived with it.
Not unexpectedly, he's had more medical problems over the last few years as he's aged. And finally they have become too much to manage. As I was driving him to the vet's office this morning, for the final time, I realized that he had indeed fulfilled his role; for 14 years he's been company and good friend to Jessica, which was my goal.
We'll miss you, Cocoa -- you were a good boy.
