I saw his cute little mug on the Dumb Friends League (Denver) website and just knew he was the companion for our recently adopted Kizzie.
When we visited with him at the shelter I quickly realized this guy was going to be a handful. He had arrived at the shelter matted and neglected so save his adorable little face, he was completely shaved. He was a little hyper, a little crazy so actually I was a little hesitant about adopting but my husband was all in. So ~ the adventure began.
And what an adventure it was! We had very little information about his first six years so we were basically starting from scratch. Two weeks in I knew I was going to need some help. He didn't know how to walk on a leash. He was very hyperactive and constantly barking. Oh, the barking... At meal time he would jump and knock the food bowl out of my hands ~ like he was starving. I had never experienced a pup like this. I needed help.
Enter Dog Trainer extraordinaire, Yukari, who taught me and taught him how to deal with each other. She spent 18 months with us and became a part of our family. He learned to sit before he was fed. He learned when I said, "Leave it" he wouldn't chase the bunny. He learned when he didn't bark at another dog I said, "Good boy, good job!" and he would sit and get a treat. He learned to control a little of his anxiety. But not all. Some bags were never unpacked.
He loved watching TV (which led us to believe he may have been left alone with the television a lot in his previous life). But if an animal appeared...
he went bananas. So we got quite adept at muting or changing channels. If anyone dared walk by the house he let them know they were trespassing on his property.
He knew when a storm was coming. He could feel the drop in the barometric pressure and would begin panting and shaking and pacing. He was scared of thunder and lightning and wind. He was almost inconsolable. The Thundershirt looked cute but didn't help.
When the phone rang and we said, "Hello" raucous barking would ensue.
Because he thought someone was coming to the door. Same thing happened if the doorbell rang or my husband called me "Cin" rather than Cindi (we never figured that one out) or the garage door opened or a dog walked by or a truck drove by or a leaf flew by. We just learned to tune it out. He liked to mark his territory so we lived with puppy gates. Everywhere.
He loved being outdoors. In any kind of weather.
Most of all he loved hopping in the car and going to the Park (barking all the way).
Running was his favorite thing in life. Don't ask me about the three times he escaped the house off leash and ran and ran and ran. And gave me instant heart attacks.
He may have been 6 years old when he joined our family but he was a puppy until the day he left us. He loved tossing his toys in the air and pretending to play fetch. He would bring the toy back to me but rarely let go.
The life of our "Little Man" (as he came to be known) wasn't all fun and games. He had wonky knees (luxating patella) and required double knee surgery, followed by three months of physical therapy. It was then that we saw exactly how strong our Little Man could be.
He looked a little funny for awhile but he made a full recovery.
That wasn't the end of his physical issues. A couple of years ago he was diagnosed with heart disease. He was prescribed daily medications and occasional visits to the Cardiologist.
And true to his fighter spirit he handled it well. But the worst was yet to come.
In August of 2019 Koko was diagnosed with lymphoma ~ and a fairly aggressive form at that. After conferring with an Oncologist he began weekly chemotherapy treatments for 19 weeks. So he was a regular at the animal hospital and charmed the Oncology Team on a weekly basis.
He finished his weekly chemo and was declared in complete remission and a Chemo Rock Star!
Sadly remission lasted only a month. Two additional chemo treatments were tried, to no avail. Our Little Man, our strong fighter, our trooper lost his fight on March 9, 2020.
He was our best boy. Our Koko Bean, Koko Loco, Our Little Man.
He was everything to us ~ and we to him.
You taught us a thousand little things. And every day there are a thousand little things that remind us of you. Remind us that you are no longer here. A thousand little things that make us laugh, make us cry. A thousand little things that let us know there will never be another you.
Now Little Man you can run free. Run free, run fast, run with love.
How blessed we were to know you. Thank you for choosing us.
