When Coco came into my life I was about 11 or 12 years old. He was wandering around the neighborhood. I loved him at first sight. He was so big and had black curly hair and exceedingly friendly.
I remember sneaking food to him and I remember my mom saying "no Mary, you can't take in every stray dog you see". But he stayed around and since I didn't know his name I just called him "Dog". I could go outside and if I didn't see him I'd do a high pitched "here doggie doggie doggie dog" and he'd come running.
Eventually he wore my mom down. He didn't leave like she thought he would so she said yes I could keep him. But my aunt who lived with us said but not in the house. So Dog stayed outside. Did I mention he was a jumper and an escape artist? So being an outside dog in the backyard meant he left every night but he returned every day to be with me.
After a few months my mom and I went bikeriding into a neighborhood a few blocks away. Dog was with us, he followed me everywhere. But it was odd, he seemed to know this neighborhood and then the unthinkable happened. Some kids were outside playing and they recognized him. He belonged to a family on the street. His name was....Coco.
We took Coco home and met the people. The boy he belonged too didn't seem to care about him. The adults told us Coco always escaped no matter how they tried to keep him home. We figured out that he went home to them their house in the middle of the night and would come back to me during the day.
Since Coco preferred being with me we asked if we could keep him. The parents said yes but the boy said no. But the back and forth situation kept going on. And when they went away for weekends they paid me to take care of Coco.
Eventually, they found some way to keep him from escaping and I didn't see him anymore. Then one day as I was walking home from school I saw the kid that owned him. I asked him how Coco was doing and he said "he's dead. He got out the front door, ran into the street and a car hit him".
Coco was a free spirit and one of the sweetest and most loyal dogs I've ever known.
I remember sneaking food to him and I remember my mom saying "no Mary, you can't take in every stray dog you see". But he stayed around and since I didn't know his name I just called him "Dog". I could go outside and if I didn't see him I'd do a high pitched "here doggie doggie doggie dog" and he'd come running.
Eventually he wore my mom down. He didn't leave like she thought he would so she said yes I could keep him. But my aunt who lived with us said but not in the house. So Dog stayed outside. Did I mention he was a jumper and an escape artist? So being an outside dog in the backyard meant he left every night but he returned every day to be with me.
After a few months my mom and I went bikeriding into a neighborhood a few blocks away. Dog was with us, he followed me everywhere. But it was odd, he seemed to know this neighborhood and then the unthinkable happened. Some kids were outside playing and they recognized him. He belonged to a family on the street. His name was....Coco.
We took Coco home and met the people. The boy he belonged too didn't seem to care about him. The adults told us Coco always escaped no matter how they tried to keep him home. We figured out that he went home to them their house in the middle of the night and would come back to me during the day.
Since Coco preferred being with me we asked if we could keep him. The parents said yes but the boy said no. But the back and forth situation kept going on. And when they went away for weekends they paid me to take care of Coco.
Eventually, they found some way to keep him from escaping and I didn't see him anymore. Then one day as I was walking home from school I saw the kid that owned him. I asked him how Coco was doing and he said "he's dead. He got out the front door, ran into the street and a car hit him".
Coco was a free spirit and one of the sweetest and most loyal dogs I've ever known.
When Coco came into my life I was about 11 or 12 years old. He was wandering around the neighborhood. I loved him at first sight. He was so big and had black curly hair and exceedingly friendly.
I remember sneaking food to him and I remember my mom saying "no Mary, you can't take in every stray dog you see". But he stayed around and since I didn't know his name I just called him "Dog". I could go outside and if I didn't see him I'd do a high pitched "here doggie doggie doggie dog" and he'd come running.
Eventually he wore my mom down. He didn't leave like she thought he would so she said yes I could keep him. But my aunt who lived with us said but not in the house. So Dog stayed outside. Did I mention he was a jumper and an escape artist? So being an outside dog in the backyard meant he left every night but he returned every day to be with me.
After a few months my mom and I went bikeriding into a neighborhood a few blocks away. Dog was with us, he followed me everywhere. But it was odd, he seemed to know this neighborhood and then the unthinkable happened. Some kids were outside playing and they recognized him. He belonged to a family on the street. His name was....Coco.
We took Coco home and met the people. The boy he belonged too didn't seem to care about him. The adults told us Coco always escaped no matter how they tried to keep him home. We figured out that he went home to them their house in the middle of the night and would come back to me during the day.
Since Coco preferred being with me we asked if we could keep him. The parents said yes but the boy said no. But the back and forth situation kept going on. And when they went away for weekends they paid me to take care of Coco.
Eventually, they found some way to keep him from escaping and I didn't see him anymore. Then one day as I was walking home from school I saw the kid that owned him. I asked him how Coco was doing and he said "he's dead. He got out the front door, ran into the street and a car hit him".
Coco was a free spirit and one of the sweetest and most loyal dogs I've ever known.
I remember sneaking food to him and I remember my mom saying "no Mary, you can't take in every stray dog you see". But he stayed around and since I didn't know his name I just called him "Dog". I could go outside and if I didn't see him I'd do a high pitched "here doggie doggie doggie dog" and he'd come running.
Eventually he wore my mom down. He didn't leave like she thought he would so she said yes I could keep him. But my aunt who lived with us said but not in the house. So Dog stayed outside. Did I mention he was a jumper and an escape artist? So being an outside dog in the backyard meant he left every night but he returned every day to be with me.
After a few months my mom and I went bikeriding into a neighborhood a few blocks away. Dog was with us, he followed me everywhere. But it was odd, he seemed to know this neighborhood and then the unthinkable happened. Some kids were outside playing and they recognized him. He belonged to a family on the street. His name was....Coco.
We took Coco home and met the people. The boy he belonged too didn't seem to care about him. The adults told us Coco always escaped no matter how they tried to keep him home. We figured out that he went home to them their house in the middle of the night and would come back to me during the day.
Since Coco preferred being with me we asked if we could keep him. The parents said yes but the boy said no. But the back and forth situation kept going on. And when they went away for weekends they paid me to take care of Coco.
Eventually, they found some way to keep him from escaping and I didn't see him anymore. Then one day as I was walking home from school I saw the kid that owned him. I asked him how Coco was doing and he said "he's dead. He got out the front door, ran into the street and a car hit him".
Coco was a free spirit and one of the sweetest and most loyal dogs I've ever known.
Sponsored by Ancestry
Advertisement
Explore more
Sponsored by Ancestry
Advertisement
