Coco Foster
January 1 1991 - March 1, 2006
In January, 2006, my dog, Coco , a German Shorthaired Pointer of 14 years old was diagnosed with a mastoid cell tumor (cancerous) on her paw. Coco was a pound rescue animal that had been found beaten and left on the road to die. She had surgery and the tumor was removed successfully, but the vet had warned me that this type of cancer was very aggressive and may return (especially in the same spot).
Coco was healing pretty good, except that it took her nearly 4 weeks to walk on that paw/leg. I babied her every chance I got, even picking her up the stairs etc. On the 2nd last week of February, I noticed that her paw had healed, however, there was a lump above the surgery scar -- it was the cancer, it had come back. Coco was also licking it quite frequently, breaking it open in some spots again.
That week, I noticed that I wasn't filling up her food bowl (she had free range) but I was filling up her water bowl daily, sometimes twice a day as it was always half empty. I also noticed that she had low energy. Where we used to walk, she now declined, when we ate, she was always there mooching, but this time, she wasn't and come to think of it, she hadn't come mooching at all in the last couple of days. That's when I noticed that she wasn't eating either, because I asked my husband if he was filling up her bowl and he said no, she still had a full one. He thought I was filling up her bowl in the mornings and I thought he was doing it. So I don't know how long she really went without food.
I was scared. I knew in my heart that she was telling me it was almost time. I didn't want her to suffer but I couldn't bring myself to do what was the right thing. I tried to feed Coco her favorite food -- which was anything I was eating. I left her 4 little sliced pieces of sausage on a plate, she ate one, just to make me happy, looked at the other 3 and went back to lie down on her couch. I knew then that Coco was in trouble. I waited a week, to see if she would improve, but in my heart I knew she wasn't going to. My husband and I talked about this and decided that it was time. In her own way, she was giving me the hint that it was time to let her go gracefully and with dignity.
For many nights after that, and especially the night before, I held her and curled up with her and explained that I loved her. I thanked her for being my friend, my guardian when things were not always what they seemed and I also thanked her for letting me love her. I knew she loved me unconditionally, but my heart was breaking. On March 1, 2006, I phoned the vet and told them what was going on. How upset I was and that I was afraid to let her go any longer and so, I took Coco to the vet. My husband was worried about me, but I insisted I was ok.
Once at the vet's, he took one look at her paw, stated that the cancer had come back, undoubtedly, and was infecting her foot right to her toes. He could amputate her paw, but she was 14 - 15 years old. Once he learned of all the symptoms she was showing, he agreed it was the best thing to let her go.
I lifted her on the table, told her constantly thank you for being my friend, and that I loved her. It wasn't until I was almost finished saying my 50th time that I loved her and stroked her that I noticed the shot was in her leg. She leaned against me, and again stroking my best friend's head and face, I said that I loved her for I knew that when she leaned in to me, she was gone. The vet listened to her heart and just nodded. I asked if she was gone and he said yes. She never suffered at all. She went peacefully in my arms. The vet told me to take my time, and that when I was done, just close the door behind me. After about 1/2 hour or a bit longer, I stroked her one last time, kissed her head, told her that I loved her and lay her head on the table. I undid her collar, kissed her several more times, and stroked her one last time before saying goodbye.
Despite my heart breaking, and knowing I did the right thing, I couldn't let her go with strangers. We were best friends for almost 10 happy, joyous (and sometimes humorous situations) over the years and I couldn't let her be on her own. We were pals throughout our lives and pals to the end. I know in my heart that she loved me and I hope she understood that what I did was because I didn't want her to suffer any more.
Upon coming home, I hung up her collar and leash in the hallway. Where the leash had always been kept for her walks, for she was very impatient when you mentioned walk, she was sitting at the door, looking at the leash and waiting for you.
But on Wednesday, one week after she was gone, later in the night, I was in bed, and the cat sleeping on the right side of me, and of course, Coco would have been sleeping on the left side of me (my husband works nights so Coco and Maui (my cat) were always in the bed. Any way, as I lay there thinking about Coco and crying again, I thought I heard the jingle of her collar. What seemed like a few minutes passing, I thought I heard it again. You know the distinct sound the tag makes on the metal clip of her collar. I know I heard it because the cat also looked at the front doorway. I believe in Coco 's own way, she was letting me know that she was doing fine, not hurting and was happy.
Coco was known by many nicknames, mostly my baby girl (for that was what she was to me) Coconut (for when she was acting silly) and Coco girl. I miss my baby girl so much.
I appreciate you letting me talk about her. She had many friends, both human and animal alike, sometimes a mom to kittens (when Maui had kittens before I got her fixed, Maui left the babies in her box and Coco, upon hearing a couple of them crying, went over and sniffed each one, licked them, got them quiet and sleeping until Maui returned a couple of minutes later). When Maui had given birth, there was Coco and I both lying on the bed, our heads hanging over the edge watching Maui . It was actually quite funny to see the two of us like that. But that was just the way Coco was, kind to most animals and humans. Always giving of herself, especially to children. She always knew how to make me happy and always knew when I was feeling down. She would always have a nudge to be patted, sometimes making a nuisance of herself until she got her way and you patted her several times. By that time, her head was leaning against my leg, or she would hop up on the couch, lying beside me, while I patted her.
I truly believe that she is on the Rainbow Bridge waiting for me one day.