He’s 10 years old, has only one eye, snores so loud you can hear him from across the house, and is the sweetest “grumpy old man” in the world. He’s a shih tzu, and he’s a member of our family.
Cooper has had a rough run the past few weeks.
We’ve known for a few years now that he has a tumor on the one eye that he has left, but his vet thought it didn’t look cancerous before, and we just had to watch it. We know his vision has declined, but we don’t know exactly how much he can still see.
Sometimes he misses the food we try to hand him. Other times, he misses the back door when he scratches to go out. And occasionally, he will run directly into something, as funny as it sounds.
And, here recently, he did a bad thing and bit someone, but I don’t want that to define him. So tonight, I just want to tell Coopers story, or at least part of it.
Cooper came to live with us back in 2016, but I’ve known him his whole life. And he’s always been family. And he has definitely had a good life since day 1.
Coop is spoiled rotten, but he’s such a sweet old dog. He knows when I’m eating (especially chicken, his favorite) that I always share a little with him. He doesn’t beg, he simply sits beside me, watching me, and patiently waits for his bites. And he always has to take them to the rug to actually eat them. Apparently the soft floor is better for flavor, no matter what he’s eating and how messy!
Cooper has always been friendly. He will bark all day if he sees a cat, and he definitely likes to be the dog in charge. But, he never met a human he didn’t like.
And I want to make sure that, as my kids get older, they know that the decisions we had to make for cooper, as excruciating as they are, are not because he made a mistake. His mistake simply made us aware that something more may be wrong.
We don’t know why Cooper bit, but he did. And I can’t tell you how thankful I am that #1, he doesn’t have many teeth left, and #2, it was no worse than it was. And that the family was so understanding, and know Cooper so well, therefore knew that wasn’t his normal behavior.
So Cooper got to have a fun little extra quarantine period here with us through animal control, to make sure the little one was ok and that he didn’t show any signs of disease (which he didn’t). But that’s over and done, and everyone, thank God, is ok.
However, we took Cooper in for a checkup due to the fact that his eyesight was obviously getting a little worse, and he was a bit more off, more skittish, than before. And there we learned that Coop’s tumor has grown, and is cancerous.
We were given two choices: remove the eye and the tumor (with no guarantee based on location that he would pull through), or let him rest and know he lived the best life we could give him.
We know it would be miserable for Cooper to have his only remaining eye removed. Not to mention, when he came home from surgery, he would be coming home to a new house, with new smells, that he wouldn’t know his way around. He would be scared, and I can’t imagine how sad. And that hurts my heart to even imagine.
But, having to make the decision and the phone call to schedule an appointment to put your beloved pet to rest...that HURTS. Knowing you can have the power to say, “ok, this is the day. Let’s do it then.” That stings.
It’s also so hard because he’s still Cooper. We know that the tumor is close to his brain, and we don’t want to see him decline. We don’t want to see him become miserable and remember him that way. But, he’s still my sweet little tail-wagging buddy, and it hurts in a way I can’t describe as the day comes closer.
Mikah begged for us to wait until he finished school. That was important to him, for Cooper to be here for his last day of second grade. So we scheduled it for this coming Saturday, the 23rd. It seemed like so far away, but it just keeps creeping closer.
We have kits to do his paw prints, and stamp his paw prints. We have rocks to paint for him, and special frames for his pictures. We have been giving him extra special treats, and extra love, and all the attention the past few days.
But every time I hear his little paws on the floor, going to find a blanket to lay on and curl up (that’s how he spends his days; sleeping on any blanket he can find), it makes my chest feel tight, and my stomach flip, because I just can’t imagine not hearing that anymore.
His sweet, loud snore. It’s the best noise. It’s even been known to scare guests before because they didn’t know what it was, but it’s like a calming noise to us. A reminder that he’s here, usually asleep behind the chair in the living room, where we keep all the spare blankets.
He sleeps in Kaisyns bed at night. She’s devastated, and I don’t know how she will handle it when he isn’t here to sleep next to her.
And sweet little Lola. She’s the first dog he’s taken to around us, and we feel like he’s like a big brother to her. She gets so excited to play with him, and lay next to him, and try to steal his toys. Her heart will hurt, too.
I’ve questioned so many times if I’ve made the right decision. I’ve questioned so many times why. Why does he have to have a tumor on the only eye he has left? Why does it have to be cancer? Why my Cooper?
I know he’s already 10, and he probably wouldn’t have had too many years left with us anyways. But it still feels like we’ve been robbed in a way, and he didn’t deserve this.
I’ve cried every night this week. This is supposed to be such an exciting time; we are buying a new house, with enough bedrooms for all 3 of our kids to have their own (finally). We are starting a new chapter.
But this week, I just feel so, so sad. I can’t explain how much I’m going to miss my sweet Coop.
The kids have been so strong, and so brave. When I tell you I am blessed when it comes to my children, I mean I am truly BLESSED. They’ve cried too, but they’ve also hugged me, and reassured me that Cooper will forgive me for making that phone call, even when I didn’t ask them to say those words. They just knew it was so, so hard for me.
And they keep talking about how Khoen and Cooper will be together, waiting for us when we go to Heaven. How Cooper won’t have cancer, and he will have two eyes again and effect vision. And I am so thankful for that promise.
So Cooper, to you:
Thank you for being the best dog. Thank you for the years of snuggles, and laughs, and snores. Thanks for always sharing my chicken with me, and pepperonis off my pizza, and sometimes eating a French fry, if there’s some sauce on it. Thanks for sometimes barking at the cat so fast and loud that your bark sounds like it got away from you, and almost like you choked on it, and making us laugh. Thanks for letting the kids dress you up in silly outfits and always being so patient. Thanks for the tail wags, and for always rolling over so we can rub your belly. Thanks for always stealing my favorite blankets, but being willing to share with me. Thanks for comforting my children when they needed you, and sitting with me when I’ve needed to cry through the years. Thanks for taking Lola in, and learning to love her. And being such a good big brother to her over time.
Thanks for being our dog, Coop. You’ve honestly been more than a dog, you’re a member of our family, and you will never be forgotten. There aren’t enough words to tell you how much I love you. We all love you.
So for the next 3 days, we will snuggle you, and give you all the chicken and belly rubs your sweet heart desires. We will take in every snore, and cuddle you so we can take in your smell, and remember every little detail of you. We will take too many pictures, and cry too many tears.
And I promise you, Cooper, we will see you again. And you will be fully restored. God promised that, and we will cling to that promise.
Please pray for our hearts, friends. If you’ve met Coop, you know how hard this is. Just pray. For peace, and for comfort, and for healing. Pray for me to forgive myself for making that call. Pray for the hearts of my children and my husband, and that they heal quickly and don’t hurt too deeply. Pray for Lola, and that she comes to terms quickly with not having her brother around. Just send us all the prayers you can. We appreciate each and every one.
We love you forever, sweet Cooper. There will never be another you.
No comments:
Post a Comment