She left me.
She left me too soon. She left me when I needed, relied, and depended on her the most. It was not her fault, but objectively, she’s still at fault. She is still the reason I have a feeling inside me that I’ve never felt before: grief.
My beloved best friend was taken from me. She was taken by the most notorious criminal ever to cross my path: cancer. Cancer stripped her life from us too soon; it was almost like whiplash. She was here, then she wasn’t.
Coco was supposed to be with us until she was 15 years old but was gone by five. She lived one-third of her potential life. She still had treats to eat, people to bite, and walks to go on. Whether it was the devil disguised as cancer, or God disguised as a test, she still wasn’t done living. Or, more so, I wasn’t ready to let her go.
Coco may have been taken from me, but my heart doesn’t feel the anger it should feel when something has been stolen from me; instead, my heart is weighed down with the feeling of abandonment. I miss my best friend. So much.
I miss my 100-pound Rottweiler. I miss the way she would protect me and care for me.
I miss not being scared when I was home by myself because she was there to guard me. I may have been supposed to be the boss of Coco, but she was the boss of me. I hated that she had so much power over me, but now I would gladly let her dictate everything I did.
Coco was feared by so many people. Her ear-destroying bark, bone-breaking jaw, and her astronomically-large frame frightened many people. I didn’t blame them. I had little control over her; to my mom, on the other hand, Coco was a delicate, protective angel.
My mom and Coco had one of the most unbreakable bonds I have seen between an animal and a human. Yes, Coco was my best friend, but my mom was hers. Coco was my mom’s favorite child. The loss of Coco hit her the hardest.
It makes me devastated talking about Coco’s passing, but no one else is going to, so I feel obligated to talk about how loved she was. Coco was the dog everyone knew about. She made an impact on everyone she met. She was such a loved dog and still is.
Coco may not be with me anymore, but in the few months she has been gone, she has sent me a gift from doggy Heaven. She sent me my new best friend. She sent me my new puppy, Bowser, a miniature Rottweiler. Bowser is everything Coco wasn’t: small, trained, and I’m his favorite.
In a way, I kind of like that Bowser and Coco are completely different. I love many things about Bowser, but none of those things are the traits I loved about Coco. It’s like Bowser fills the sense of abandonment Coco left behind, but at the same time, he doesn’t replace Coco.
Even though I have my new puppy, I still long for Coco. I miss her. I will always miss my protector, but now, she’s my guardian angel.
