Thursday, January 18, 2018

Cartas Coleccionables de Coqueta - 1880 Goodwin & Company

Two weeks.

It feels like an eternity, but at the same time I remember it like it was last night.

It was obvious that something wasn't right.  Mama couldn't get you to get up that morning to go eat and potty.  I couldn't either.  When I got home, Dylan told me that you hadn't moved all day.  Finally, you got up for me and went outside.  You didn't eat or use the bathroom though.  You just laid in the yard.  For hours I tried to get you to come in but you wouldn't, even though it was pretty cold outside.

When mama got home, she made a call and confirmed what I kinda knew.  I could see in your eyes that you weren't all there.  We were able to move you enough to get that blanket under you.  It took all three of us to get you inside.  We weren't a little bundle of joy and you weren't still 150 pounds like a couple of years ago, but you were still our big ol' lady.

You hung on.  You let us bring you inside.  You hung on long enough to see mama get that ring on her finger.  You hung on through one last Christmas for us.  I choose to believe that you knew.  You knew what would be easiest on us.  You knew that we knew it was time, even though it seemingly came out of nowhere.  We wanted you to go own your own and at home with us.

We sat there with you in the floor for over an hour, wanting you to know just how much we loved you.  We told you that it was okay go.  You'd given us all that you had and it was more than we could have asked for.  Mama said you wouldn't go as long as we were there with you.  Our friends came over.  I turned off the overhead light and the Christmas lights on and stepped into the other room for just a couple of minutes to chat with the friends.  When I came back, you'd received your wings.

I've been fortunate.  It'll be 40 in a little more than a year and I haven't lost anyone close to me.  I've lost two grandmothers but I didn't see them every day.  Missing you is a different kind of hurt.  Until I moved to Texas and in with you, mama and Dylan, I'd been alone my entire adult life.  I had an instant family and it was a darn good one.  There's still a hole and I feel like there always will be. 

Since you left, I've changed.  I've been asking myself what I'm doing with my life.  Certain things aren't as important as they were.  I don't get worked up over small stuff.  I've changed for the better, even though I miss you. 

It's weird.  I lost it when they came to get you.  Then I was good for a week, until mama and I came to bring you home with us.  This last week has been rough though, and I don't know why. 

I wasn't here, but I even know the story behind how your name became Coqueta.  Loosely translated, it means "flirty girl" and it was what one of the housekeepers called you every day as a pup.  It stuck.  I'm happy that it did.  Since the lady spoke very little English and your name was of Spanish descent, I decided to use the Spanish in my titles

I can't remember why or how I decided to search for a mastiff trading card a couple of months ago, but I'm happy that I did.  At the time you received your wings, I had just one card.  Since you left, it's become a collection.  The one I already had is the oldest trading card that I own and will always hold a place in my heart. 

Other than you having a bit of gray on your muzzle the last couple of years, you looked just like that.  I can't say that about some other mastiff cards. 

Since I'm posting the oldest card it seems appropriate to share the oldest picture that mama could find of you.  I didn't know you at that size and wonder if this is photoshopped somehow! 

Just know that even though we adopted Lola on Saturday, she's not a replacement for you.  For one, you are irreplaceable.  Also, that wouldn't be fair to any other pup.  Mama was having some anxiety about nobody here to protect and/or warn us and wasn't sleeping well.  I choose to believe that you understand and want this for us.  We both needed a puppygirl to love, but it's a different love than we have for you. 


There are more cards and there will be more posts.  There will never be another you.  Please know that.

Like I told you every morning before I left for work, "daddy loves you and will see you soon." 

(Apologies if you see any spelling errors or sentences that don't make sense.  I couldn't bring myself to proofread this.)


  1. First off, thanks for rescuing Lola. My mom rescued a nine-year-old dog on Tuesday, after she too lost her long-time dog (over the summer).

    Losing a pet is very tough. We lost our dog in March, and a few months later got a puppy. You said it best when you said "it's not to replace." You can't do that. But it's nice to have a pet in the house.

    I hope you keep the fond memories, and feel better as time goes on.

  2. Hey my friend, need to get your mailing address to send out that stack of Rangers. Couldn't find your email to shoot you a note. Thanks! My email is arpsmith at aol dot com

  3. Oh man... I am so sorry for your loss. I haven't had a dog of my own in 30 or so years, but I have always been a dog person. They are truly man's best friend and like humans have unique personalities. This post really got to me.

    P.S. Lola is a cutie.