01/29/2023...
If I had only known that on this day one month ago, that day would be our last...I would have never let you out of my arms for 1 second. While I'm grateful that we were able to spend that day together, I would have held you tighter, and rubbed your belly the whole day through. I'm sorry that I took you the vet, just a few hours before your last breath...I didn't want you pocked & prodded in your last hours. I know how uncomfortable that must have been.
We had snow this past week. I remember how you loved playing in the snow. Living in Houston most of your life, you only saw snow three or four times on our trips up north.

01/04/2023...
I miss you so much CoCo! You have been my life for the last 20 years. How do I say goodbye to my heart? I know how the years had slowly taken a toll on your precious earthly body. There were so many times I feared that I was losing you. Whether the time you found the mouse bait, or the time you first dug under the fence and ran off to explore the world on your own, or the time you and your little bro found the chocolate bar, then of course there was when they found the mass on your spleen. You overcame them all. How could I not believe that you were going to live forever? Even on the day of your passing, I held you for over 12 hours fearing that this was the day, but then you stood up and went outside to potty. To me, that was the sign I needed and I rushed you to the vet. There I was given hope that you going to fully recover. That you were just dehydrated and after iv fluids and meds for an upset tummy you going to be fine. But after getting you home, I knew this was different. You were lethargic and it would be an hour before you would take your last breath in my arms. I felt so helpless. I can't believe that I couldn't save you. When were living in Houston, one of my dearest memories is taking you to the park downtown, and watching you bark and try to attach the bronze statue of President George Bush. I'm so thankful I have that on video. I loved how you had this skip-hop when you would trot. I miss waking up to find you snuggling with me. It brings a smile to my face every time I think about your first night at home...rooting your way under the bed sheets. I take some comfort in watching videos of back when you were young and youthful. Running and jumping, enjoying life as you were meant to. You no longer have to hobble around with bad hips, or flinch from the loss of sight, or miss hearing me call your name. Now I have the urn with you beside my bed. I will keep my promise that you will never be alone. I love you CODY!