Cocoa was a chocolate Labrador Retriever. He was 7 years old when he left us forever. Since we first got him at 8 weeks old he had been extremely attached to me as though I replaced his real Mom for him. The first few weeks he would often cry at night. He was probably lonely for his real mother. I would get up from bed and go to his box, pick him up and take him back to bed with me. I would hold him and he would go to sleep and be quiet for the rest of the night. Right from the start Cocoa started proving how smart he was. He was house trained in less than a week and he very quickly learned that he had lots of toys that he was allowed to chew on and he never once chewed up anything good, like furniture or shoes. By the time he was 5 months old he had learned to sit, lie down, stay, heel, get up and shake paws on command. By the time Cocoa was full grown you could practically carry on a conversation with him because he seemed to understand most of what you said. He was so eager to please that he was exceptionally well-behaved. He just loved us too much to ever be a bad boy. He followed me everywhere I went, from room to room in the house and everywhere outside. All day long there was a little "parade" in our house as I went about my housework, etc. The dog following me and our cat, Marmalade, who adored Cocoa, following him. Even when I went into the bathroom he would lay across the outside of the door. If I was away he would be dejected until I came home. Cocoa was so sweet-natured that he could lay outside under our bird feeder and the birds would alight all around him without fear. He was very protective of children. When my husband was at work and my kids were at school Cocoa was my constant companion and buddy. At night I fell asleep to his gentle snoring as he lay on his bed, on the floor next to my side of the bed. He had so many funny little personality quirks, like being afraid of the dark and of being alone and hiding from the dreaded vacuum cleaner. Cocoa's most favourite thing in the whole world was going to the beach. At the mere mention of the word he would be beside himself with excitement. We live only a short drive from the beach so we go there often in the warm months and Cocoa loved to swim and fetch driftwood sticks that were thrown out into the water. If there happened to be other children besides our own there, they all got a nice slurpy kiss from Cocoa. The big loveable pooch hated any kind of fighting or arguing and when my two daughters would sometimes get into a mini-battle he would push himself in between them and bark at first one then the other as though he was telling them to stop fighting and behave themselves. He was never short of wet sloppy doggy kisses and even often kissed the cat, soaking his entire face.

    At about age 5 Cocoa developed arthritis in his front elbows but they were only bothersome to him occasionally and when they gave him trouble we had medicine that helped. One night toward the end of April, 2002, Cocoa cried all night with pain despite the medicine. The next day we took him to our vet. The vet (whom Cocoa has always adored) told us that his medicine had to be changed. This new med was very expensive but was the best med available and we were told we should see an improvement in Cocoa's arthritis in a few days. The next day Cocoa could not climb into his favourite chair and his back legs were wobbly. By that evening he started falling down when he was walking. Over the next few days he got steadily worse, so back to the vet we went. Our vet immediately realized that arthritis was not the problem. He diagnosed Cocoa with degenerative myelopathy, a neurological illness similar to MS in humans. He said that Cocoa might have a maximum of 3 months before he would be unable to move at all, paralysed from the neck down. However, that was not the case and the illness progressed with lightening speed, especially during the last few days. By May 14, 2002 Cocoa could only drag himself a short distance. He could not stand without help. His head was pulled to one side and his tongue hung out of the side of his mouth. He ate only a half a can of dog food in a few days (He couldn't chew dry kibbles at all anymore).My husband carried him outside and he had to defecate lying down. He had repeated bouts of painful muscle spasms. In two short weeks he went from running around the yard fetching sticks to being unable to get up. We were devastated. Our vet had told us that once he could no longer get up the kindest thing we could do for Cocoa was to have him put down. So on the morning of May 15, 2002, my husband held Cocoa's head in his lap as we sat around him on the floor and the vet gave him an overdose of anesthetic intravenously. It was very peaceful. Cocoa just went quietly to sleep and after a few minutes the vet said his heart had stopped. There was no turning back. We buried our fella under an apple tree at home. My husband made a railing around his grave and I painted a plaque with his name on it and put it on the railing. Later we will put a bench there so we can sit and visit with him. Cocoa was almost like a child to us. We will never forget our big fella or what a dear, sweet, loving dog he was. He gave us so much joy and pleasure while he was with us! We love you Cocoa!!!!