I want to tell you a story about my best friend.
A little over five years ago my wife and I decided that our lives were to orderly and our house, our cars, and everything else we owned needed to be covered in yellow fur.
There's more
I took the lead and contacted Golden Gate Labrador rescue. After a screening interview we were placed on their waiting list to adopt a Labrador retriever. It wasn't very long before I received a call from one of Golden Gate's volunteers; they had a 2 year old yellow Lab that needed a home NOW. My wife and I dropped what we were doing and met the Golden Gate volunteer at the vet that donates health checkups for the dogs that Golden Gate places for adoption. We met with the vet who introduced us to Kobe and gave him a clean bill of health. Kobe had spent the last 2 weeks at an SPCA shelter he was clearly scared and mincing no words he smelled bad. My wife and I huddled briefly and made the decision to make Kobe part of our family. We walked Kobe to our car opened up the back and tried to get him into the car. No amount of encouragement worked finally I picked up 70 pounds of smelly wiggly Labrador and placed him in the car. We got home and took Kobe for a restroom break before going inside. Kobe was afraid of the 8 inch step that led into our home. So once again I picked him up and carried him into the house. I set him on the door mat and put out some water for him. He seemed reluctant to leave the mat (our house has wooden floors). I thought he just needed a little time to adjust, 3 hours later he was still on the mat. I found that if I placed another floor mat in front of the one he was standing on he happily stepped onto the new mat. Moving one mat at a time I managed to lead him into the living room where there was a carpet. (Kobe never got over his fear of the floors, but we managed to reach a compromise by placing carpet runners everywhere he needed to go.) I called my contact at Golden Gate to see if he could shed some light on the problems, the simple answer was no. I was concerned that there was something seriously wrong and was having second thoughts about what I had gotten into. As it happens my wife had to go out of town the next day, so it was just Kobe and me. About dinner time I received an unexpected phone call from the President of Golden Gate Lab Rescue, he did not sound happy. It seems that for the first time in the history of Lab Rescue there was a "problem with the adoption". The previous owner was insisting on the return of their dog. The Lab rescue people didn't know what to do. Over the course of the next 2 days I spent my time helping Kobe to adjust to his new home and talking for hours with the Lab rescue people. It seems that the SPCA folks knew all about the owner and the reason that the adoption was such a rush job was because they did not want to see the dog returned to the owner. (Kobe was sick when he arrived at the shelter.) The local city subcontracts with the SPCA to deal with the cities animal issues. So now the local city manager’s office was huffing and puffing, making threats and insisting on the return of Kobe. Somewhere over the course of this dust up a funny thing happened to me, I went from having second thoughts about this dog to being adamant that there was no way in hell that I was going to turn this wonderful fella over to anyone. From that day on Kobe was part of the family; my wife, Kobe and I were part of the pack. Kobe had been to doggie school and once he got it through my thick skull how things were supposed to work we got on famously. (Ok, he knocked me on my ass twice and broke 2 of my fingers before I saw the light.) We live in a neighborhood with lots of places to walk and hike. Pretty much every day Kobe and I would hit the road for a couple of hours, this calmed him down and my waistline contracted nicely. There was another side to our walks, people I had walked past alone dozens of times suddenly wanted to chat. I had to add 20 minutes to our allotted walks to allow for visiting with our new found friends. On a typical evening Kobe would settle down under my legs and proceed to snore loudly. Kobe had another hidden talent he liked to sing, I don't mean howl. My wife and I both play the piano, I happened to be playing a little boogie woogie just for fun and suddenly I found I was playing a duet for piano and dog. This was the pattern where ever we went these last five years. In May of this year I ruptured a disk in my lower back and was unable to stand for more than a few seconds. The first month or more I don't remember very well due to all of the drugs I was given to make the pain tolerable. My wife wore herself out caring for me night and day. Throughout this ordeal Kobe was stuck to me like glue. If I moved at all there was this big blocky yellow head nuzzling my hand, my face or any other body part that was available. Ever so slowly the pain eased up a little, I was able to reduce the drugs and I started to be able to keep track of things like the days of the week. It has been about 4 months since I injured my back. About a month ago for the first time ever Kobe didn't eat his dinner. He didn't want breakfast the next day, but was otherwise fine. I tried different food and he ate a little for a day and then no more. All the while he was walking miles a day (I had hired a nice local guy to take Kobe for his walks as I couldn't make it to the mailbox much less go for a two hour walk). Off to the vet we went (Kobe loved going to the vet.) The vet looked him over from top to bottom and pronounced him to be in apparent good health, but if he didn't start eating in the next couple of days come back and we would do a blood panel. Kobe didn't eat, we did the blood draw and the lab work came back showing problems with his liver function. Our vet referred us to the internal medicine vets. A shaved belly and an ultrasound showed that something was definitely wrong with his liver. Now it was time for a liver biopsy this was 10 days ago Thursday. We waited to hear the results nothing Friday, Saturday Kobe was clearly in distress. The internal medicine vets had us take him to the emergency vets where He stayed overnight and got some IV fluids. Kobe stayed at the vets the rest of the weekend. Monday afternoon we got the biopsy results, Kobe had terminal bile duct cancer. Kobe's kidneys were shutting down. The vet said the words we feared "Kobe's time was up". My wife and I drove to the vet and spent a last few minutes saying goodbye to our beloved friend. He had gained 15 pounds in fluid over night and could barely walk. We did the only thing we could to ease his pain we had him put to sleep that day. It has been a week today and my wife and I still can't get through a day without crying. Every time I hear a noise I turn to look to see if it is Kobe, but it never will be again. Kobe was a clown, a sage, a klutz, and taught me what it means to love unconditionally. I have lost pets before. Maybe it is that I am older or the fact that Kobe died young, but I miss my friend more than words can convey. Hug your kids, your lover, your friends, pet your dog, scratch your cat, Kobe would have liked that.
*I wrote this piece at the end of August, but felt I needed to put it aside and channel my energy into getting Senator Obama Elected. I promised myself that after the elections I would tell Kobe's story. Kobe would have turned 7 last week.