On this blog you’ll read some stories about my late doggie, Cooper.

On Tuesday morning, January 9, I took her to the vet because she started walking slow, like far behind me, and she hadn’t eaten a full meal since Sunday morning. I thought maybe a T-bone steak bone I’d let her chew was causing internal problems.

Instead, on Wednesday morning, we learned she had cancer and a tumor had burst, bleeding into her abdomen.

I was already on scheduled vacation time from work for the rest of the week. So I brought her home one last time so we could spend time at home together before…

But let’s fast forward for now.

On Thursday evening, my friends came over to be with us. They brought tacos and wine. Oh and cheese dip! Yum. It was the only thing Cooper would eat.

The apartment was full of laughter during their visit. We told stories and made plans, and I stopped sobbing for the first time in a day and a half.

Maureen sat on the floor with Cooper the whole evening, petting her and talking to her. Cooper visibly relaxed and gave in to the comfort being offered to her.

I realized then that my whole job for the rest of her shortened life was going to be to give her an environment of joy and calm. Not grief, stress, and denial, which is what she’d been receiving from me since Wednesday morning.

Amy Hutcheson, the owner of Downtown Yoga, recently said that in Buddhism, the way you leave one life is how you enter the next.

Cooper had joy, laughter, love, and togetherness when she left us on Saturday morning. My friends came over to show me the path, and I stayed on it until the end.