When They Don't Come Home Again...

Last night, or really early this morning, our family changed forever...you, baby girl, said goodbye.

Somehow, I'd really let myself believe you were going to pull through. Your red blood cell count was still climbing and there were moments when you would do little Cooper-isms like whining when I turned on the blinker in the car and that made me think you were coming back to us. DW left us for a business trip and he didn't want to go...he always misses us when he's gone but I know this time he was worried about us, too.

I noticed yesterday morning that you were acting a little funny again. You weren't interested in your food, you didn't want to drink, and there was the for sure sign that something is wrong: you weren't even interested in your ball or when I asked if you wanted to go for a ride. I checked the dose of medicine I gave you, worried I had done it wrong since DW had been in charge of that until he left. But I'd done it right and I just thought you were having a bad day. I kept you upstairs on your bed when I left for a few hours to go get dinner with friends and when I got back, I knew right away something was wrong. You didn't greet me at the door and when I walked around the corner, you didn't even wag your tail. You were definitely hurting again. I asked you all the things that I knew to ask that might get you up and moving, but you wouldn't budge. I knew it had been a while and you had to go to the bathroom even if you didn't want to, so I leaned down to pick you up and, when I did, you yelped in pain. I noticed, at that point, that you began to tremble and I put my arms around you telling you it would be ok even though I was terribly afraid it wouldn't. When I did that, I noticed your heart was racing and my heart began to race too. I pulled the comforter off my bed and grabbed my pillow so I could come sleep next to you since I couldn't move you. In the morning, I decided, I was taking you in again.

Not long after, I heard you whimper and when I put my hand on you and talked to you, you stopped. I moved it away and you began to whimper again. My heart got heavier and heavier and soon, I decided to turn on the light to check on you again...something felt wrong. When I turned on the light, I noticed your head was in a pool of your own drool and that when I lifted it, there was no life in it. I quickly checked and your heart was still beating and you were breathing so I called our vet and begged him to meet me. He said to get there as soon as I could.

When I tried to lift you, your body was so heavy and your head hung over my arms...I cried and cried, begging you to hang on and gently placed you in the car. I turned on my hazard lights and drove 75 in a 55, not caring if the police saw me. I only cared about you. I looked at the clock and it said 1:34 a.m...please make it another day, I asked you but I heard nothing, not even your breathing.

When I got there, I open the door carefully and pulled you out, but I could see that your eyes were cloudy. I picked you up and your head rolled back and you lost control of your bladder. Dr. Matt rushed over to me, gathered you in his arms and I cried out for you, "Is she gone? Please tell me she's not gone!" He rushed you inside and put you on the table, checking your heartbeat but he told me it was slowing and that you weren't pushing air through your lunges anyway. I laid my hand on you and looked at your eyes and I knew you were gone. It took my breath away and still does every time I think of you. I can't believe you aren't coming home. I can't believe I had to leave you there. I can't believe I never get to feel you put your head on my chest in the middle of the night and sigh again. I can't believe we had to say goodbye.

I called Dusty. Through my sobs, I told your Daddy that you were gone and I heard him suck in his breath, grief hitting him like a punch in the stomach. The vet asked me to sit in my car and get control of myself before I left, but I just wanted to leave. I couldn't sit there and do nothing. I drove and I cried. Eventually, I made it home but then I just sat in the car for another two hours because going inside without you would make it too real. It meant you weren't coming home again.

When I finally did go inside, Tucker walked around looking for you. He smelled your bed and then he walked into each and every room. He never does that, so I really believe he knew you were gone. And maybe it's my grief that he feels but he hasn't wanted to get out of bed this morning either. DW text this morning and asked if I got any sleep. I replied, "An hour or so...you?" and he wrote back, "The same." I asked, "Are you doing ok?" and didn't get any answer. I know he is crushed that you are gone and that he didn't get to say goodbye but I'm so glad he didn't see you that way, sweet girl. It broke my heart to see you that way.

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This is one of the first pictures I ever took of Cooper and Tucker together. DW and I had so much in common: our jobs, our interests, our values, and we each had a black lab that we'd gotten in college. Cooper was actually the reason we started spending time together. DW went water skiing with his then-girlfriend and had injured both of his knees really badly. Even though he needed surgery and lived on the second floor of an apartment building, she only came to see him once. Because I knew how hard it would be for him to take care of himself and Cooper, I offered to come let her out, walk her, etc...to help him. It was that time together that began to make me realize how wonderful of a man DW was (is).

Best friends...

Recently, our family grew a bit unintentionally. We picked up Samson at Granny's house and planned on kennel training him and teaching him basic commands before trying to give him to a good family. Cooper seemed to have so much fun playing with him that we worried that she would be devastated if we took her new buddy away.

Our living room floor was littered with puppy beds, toys, and our babies...but we loved it. Our SUV suddenly got a lot more crowded and so did our life, but it also got a lot more fun!

There are so many things that I loved about you and I don't want to forget. We would laugh because we knew if you and Tuck had done anything wrong while we were gone because if all was good, we'd find you both perched on the back of the couch, ruining our cushions.

But if we came home and found out that you had put yourself in timeout, some kind of trouble had gone down in our absence. It was hard not to laugh, even when y'all did something bad because you punished yourself and looked up at up with these pitiful eyes!

More often than not, we were laughing at something you'd done or something related to you because you had the sweetest personality ever. There wasn't a mean bone in your body and you lived for our affection and attention. Some of the funny things I remember most:

The time DW decided to give you a summer shave. Oh my goodness, you looked so atrocious you were adorable and you honestly acted like you felt naked:

How we'd put you in the pop up kennel at night, zip it closed, but somehow you'd always end up in bed with us in the morning. You earned the nickname "Coopdini" for this one because we had no idea how you were doing it. One night, we heard you unzipping the kennel so we turned on the lights and caught you! You knew you were busted but we gave up on the kennel and you returned to your rightful place with your head on my chest all night.

One of the things we laughed about most was your lack of attention span. You wanted to see everything all at once. Squirrel. Ball. Water. Ride. I can't even imagine how fast your brain was just turning!

Even though you were high energy, you also were very gentle and sweet. Inside the house, you slowed down. You liked to slowly climb on top of me if I was laying on the couch or the floor...as if you thought that if you did it slowly and gently enough, I wouldn't notice you were there and let you stay. I love this picture because it was so often how you looked at me...with such love and tenderness in your eyes. I still can't believe you aren't going to be able to babysit when God finally gives us children. It was so you that I counted on to do that.
But even though you came to me for affection and you loved me...you were absolutely a Daddy's girl. You went to him when you wanted to play and you trusted him no matter what he was doing to you. You knew he wouldn't hurt you so you were like his little puppet and he'd just laugh and laugh at you!

The day I caught DW doing lunges with you wrapped around his neck for extra weight:

...or when you walked in the room with his sunglasses on.

DW loved to take you to the lake and throw the ball out in the water. His chest would swell up with pride because you were the fastest dog we'd both ever seen. You never got beat to the ball - on either land or water - and your Daddy loved that about you. Countless times I saw him grin and shake his head back and forth, amazed at your competitive drive. I have to admit, it was pretty impressive.

He loved your intensity when it was time to play ball...

...and when there was water nearby, forget about it! We couldn't keep you out of it!

Which is why we decided that when DW gets back on Tuesday, we are going to take you over to the lake lot and bury you there. I'm so glad we bought this past winter because we have somewhere that you would love and you'll always be near us. Ironically, when we bought it, part of the reason we wanted it so badly was for you. We could just imagine how much you'd love it there and we're glad you got to see it before you had to go.
Cooper, thank you for all of the love and laughter and joy you gave us. Thank you for fighting SO hard to give us that extra time. You were never just a dog to us...you were our baby and I can't imagine my life without you in it. I knew this time would come one day, but my heart aches that it had to be so soon.

Goodbye, sweet girl...you will be missed.