Nothing to be done, no people to be saved, no pets...

Today is a five year anniversary for my family, not a happy one. It was five years ago today we put down our first inside dog, Kookee (pronounced Cookie).

We had an outside dog, a minuature collie named Muffin. But as an outside dog, she was always more of a pet, not a member of the family like Kookee was, and like Angel has become. We got Muffin in about 1974, she lived until roughly 1989, I think. My dad took her to the vet, the put her down, and he brought her back. I helped him dig the hole in the backyard, and we buried Muffin there. Kookee was walking around our feet as we did so.

We got Kookee December 12, 1987. I'm not certain what made mom want to get her. Mom had always said she'd NEVER have a dog in the house, shedding all over and clawing and tearing everything. The fall of '87, I was hanging out a lot with my friend Duff. His grandparents had a little black cockapoo named JT, and I was always talking about him around the house. Maybe that's what gave mom the idea, I don't know. But she said we'd get a dog for dad for Christmas.

One Friday, we went to the local Humand Society. Back in the room that housed all the dogs. There were all these cages and all these barking dogs. As we walked by, we saw many different dgos, most barking, or jumping up on the cage, or what have you. And then we came to one where back in the corner, curled up almost in on herself, was a little black cockapoo. The same kind as JT! That made me want to see her. the paperwork on the cage said she was found wandering along a road somewhere, abandoned, and no one had come to pick her up yet.

So I opened the gate, and hunkered down in the doorway and called to her. She looked up at me. I patted my leg and called for her. She got up, and with her tail thrust down between her legs walked cautiously over to me, got between my legs, sat down, and looked up at me with the biggest puppy-dog eyes you can imagine. Almost as if she was pleading with me, begging me to get her out of that horrible place. I was in love. She had me right at the eyes. She let us both pet her, and then we put her back in the cage and moved on. I did want to see what else they had, but I only wanted her.

I told mom as much as we drove home. She said we needed to think about it a bit, to make sure we weren't just jumping at the first thing. But I kept pestering her all night. We saw nothing else there that interested us, and she did, so what did we need to think about? She said we'd go on Saturday then and get her.

But I was scared to death! I mean, all of Friday! What if someone else got her!!! I wouldn't be able to STAND it! She was MY dog! Surely someone else would come along and see what and OBVIOUSLY great pet she'd make, and I'd lose her! I was an emotional wreck by the time she and I left late Saturday morning.

But when we got there, she was still there too. And we adopted her that day. I think the cost was only $25, although we had to sign a contract stating we'd get her spayed, if she wasn't already. And she became a part of our family. She was anywhere from 1-4 years old, the vet couldn't tell any better.

That Christmas Eve, I had to work at Domino's, then I went to family get together, and after that, to a party with the Domino's employees. That lasted until the morning. I came home and slept, but got up Christmas morning to open gifts. My grandparents came in for lunch. Afterwards, while mom was showing them our gifts, I went into the living room and laid on the floor, a pillow under my head, a blanket over me, on my side for a nap. While I did so, Kooke came into the room, and climbed up onto me, and slept there on my side as well. Mom took a photo and its around the house somewhere. She was very attached to me.

At first, mom wanted to keep her downstairs at night. And at first we did. Although in later years, she'd sleep with both them AND me. Sometimes both, with them until the got up, and with me until I did. Oftentimes, I would be woken up by mom letting her in my room and she jumping up on the bed and licking me until I woke up.

As time went on, she got older of course. A bit stiffer. A bit slower. A bit more deaf. Never senile or incontient though. In 2001, I think, we got Angel. But Kookee was the dominant dog, and both of them knew it. Angel couldn't eat until Kookee was done. And if Angel was laying on a part of the couch that Kookee wanted, Kookee just jumped up and walked over to her and Angel moved right away. Kookee was definitely further up in the hierarchy than Angel.

In late 2002-early 2003, Kookee started having problems. She wouldn't go to the bathroom. She wouldn't eat. She didn't move much. My parents took her to vet. They said she was dehydrated and kept her overnight. The next day, they had not only Kookee, but some medicine for her as well. My parents had to inject her in the back of the neck each night with this stuff. they said it was harder on them than it was on her. She didn't even cringe, but they hated giving her the shots.

Then one weekend, she was very lethargic and hardly moving. Mom made an appointment on Monday the 20th, The Martin Luther King holidays. All three of us had off work, although mom and dad are the ones that took her down. When they came back, I was over at the house, and they told the results. The vet said her kidneys were shutting down. It was just old age. the vet said we could give her more medicine, including two MORE shots a day, but realistically, it was only a matter of time now. They talked a bit and made an appointment to put her down the next day.

They both said they couldn't be there when they did it. Mom would be at work, and she wasn't taking off for it. And dad said he couldn't be there, he just couldn't. I remembered that I was there when we go here, I made the decision to bring her into our family. I would be there when she left. And irregardless, there is no way in hell I was going to allow her to pass surrounded by all those strangers in the clincial sterile setting. So I spent the night at my parents, to spend one more night with her.

I took off the next day, and at the time, I think one o'clock, I took her to the vets. I could tell she wasnt' feeling well. She didn't like it at the vets, all the noises, smells, sounds from the other animals in the waiting room. She'd shiver and pant, and be all restless. That day, she simply lay on my lap and allow me to hold her. I had wrapped her in the little blanket mom had made for her years ago, because it was cold outside.

The vet called us back. this was a new vet, a younger lady. the usual vet was an older man, but mom had told me this vet was the one that had been dealing with Kookee these last few months. The vet led us into anther room where there was a small table in the middle. I put her on it and sat in the stool next to it. The vet took the blanket off and took her collar off. She asked if I wanted to hold her or if I wanted them too, she said sometimes the animals buck a little or try to get away when they put the needles in. I assured her that I did.

I put my right arm over her shoulders and with my left one, I think i held her head from underneath, I really dont know. the vet's assistant prepared everything. Kookee just sat there reminding me of the Sphinx: unemotional and regal. And she stayed that way throughout. Even when they put the first needle in through her front leg.

I leanded in and kissed her and told I loved her and that I was sorry. We were doing this for her. I laid my forehead on the side of her head, and cried like a baby, much like I'm doing right now as I type this. The vet said the first one will put her to sleep, the second one will stop the heart. And as she said that, she took the back of Kookee's head and slowly, gently, respectfully, laid her head down on the table.

the assistant left, I assume she had administered both and had something else to do. The room was silent for a short bit, except for my crying. And then the vet said "She's gone. I'm sorry. I'll just leave oyu here for a few minutes, okay?" I nodded and she left. I mumbled things into her ear, i have no idea what it was, and i know she couldn't hear me, but I needed to.

The vet came back with a box of tissues, God bless her. She was great throughout the whole thing. She even sent us a card a few days later, expressing her sympathy, which i thought was a very nice gesture. She asked if we wanted them to dispose of her, I told her we didn't. She got a cardboard box ig enough to fit Kookee in. I put her blanket in first, then I picked her up and laid her on it. And then I put her collar in on top and closed the box. The vet offered her sympathies again, and I left.

When i got home, dad was in the backyard. He was digging a hole, in the hard January ground! Mom and I both told him not to do that, he had been sick with the flu for a few days. But apparently, once I left, he took a pick and shovel and went into the back to dig a hole next to Muffin. I told him to stop but he wouldn't listen. I think he did it so he could concentrate on that and not Kookee, but he never was very good at expressing emtion, so who knows.

I took the box inside so Angel could see and smell Kookee. I had read somewhere that you were supposed to do that when an owner or fellow pet died. Course, then, Angel was just all wound up to see me, and didn't pay attention to the box or Kookee. Although she never really did show any signs of missing or looking for Kookee so who knows?

I took Kookee's collar out and put it in my pocket, and then closed the box again, and went to help dad dig the hole. Luckily, Kookee only weighed like 10 pounds when she died, so we didn't need a very large hole. We put the box in the ground, Kookee resting on her blanket, and then filled in the dirt. And then I called mom to tell her it was all done.

It was rough on all of us, but thankfully, we knew it was best for Kookee, she was suffering no more. And we had Angel there. And she never took Kookee's place, but she was still in our lives.

I scanned some photos I found of Kookee and posted them.

This is Kookee, laying on some pillows at my apartment. I brought her over a few times before she got to old. Like when my parents went away, i'd bring her over in the evenings to stay with me.


This is Kookee with one of her favorite toys: the rubber squeeky hamburger. She went through probably a half dozen of those over the years


This is me, holding her, in 1998. Man, we both look so young.


Here she's laying in a patch of sun. I think this is after the time mom tried to trim her herself, and made it way WAAAY too short. Poor dog was shivering all the time, even in the late spring when this occured. She's got next to no hair on her there.


this was taken one of the first few Christmases after we got here. I want you all to try to notice two things: the red and white bows behind both her ears, and the red nail polish on her front paws. Yes, mom actually painted her nails. And the dog was so good she sat there and allowed her to. mom said this was her daughter, and she's gonna make her up however she wants. She doesn't so this to Angel...I don't think the dog would sit still for it, even if she tried.


I put a tie on her. She was infinitely patient. I have photos of her with my glasses on, my vest from teh drug store draped over her head, and stuff like that. Very patient, very agreeable, not at all growly or bitey.


About a year after we put her down, my parents got a headstone to lay atop where we put her. In case you can't read it, it says, "Kookee Precious cockapoo of Bev, Milt, and Chris. 12-12-87 01-21-03"


Oh, and I never mentioned what I did with her collar. I took to my apartment and hung it up in my bedroom, right next to my bed. Not every night, but frequently, as i reach up to turn out the light at night, I see it, and silently thank her for all the good times. Silly I know, but well that's Uncle Polt.

Five years.....it seems longer. And we still talk about her on occasion. If there's a doggie heaven, i know she's there. Even though I don't think its so it's nice to think maybe she's up there with dad now, playing catch, or walking through his garden with him. Or sleeping with him on the heavenly couch.

POLT Listening to "Hung Up" by Madonna

I've got Nazi all over my suit! And I just had it cleaned! - Wildcat, JSA Classified #31