Cooper, you weren’t the sharpest tool in the shed, but you were a good dog. You loved us all, and you only wanted to be with us all the time.
You loved car and truck rides, and you never got car sick. You were a good dog.
You never chased the chickens (just that one time as a puppy which taught you a life lesson).
You were an egg sucking dog, but I can’t fault you for that; everybody loves farm fresh eggs, and they didn’t get any fresher than the ones you swiped minutes after the chickens deposited them in the nest. You were a good dog.
You were always kind to the cats and kittens and other dogs; you would bed down with any of them who would have you, and even though Daisy the Cat thought you were her sworn mortal enemy, I think even she will miss you…because you were a good dog.
Poor Sahara heard me come in, crying and unintelligible, and she had to comfort me because I fell apart after finding you and getting you out of the driveway. She came in later from her room with the strangest look on her face, and she told us she was getting clothes from her laundry basket for the ballgame tonight when she found a buried bread stick among the clean shirts and shorts; you buried it to save for later. She laughed and said you were such a bad dog…but she meant really that you were a good dog and she’d miss your stinky little self so much.
Jake will miss you most of all. He was completely devastated when he came home from school, and I had to tell him that his best friend got hit by a car. He cried so hard, and now he’s decided to create a time machine so he can go back in time one day and put you in the house before we left for the morning. He just might do it…he says you weren’t a good dog; you were the best dog, and he will never forget you.
None of us will.
You were a good dog, Cooper, and we love you! I hope one day I’m half as good of a person as you seemed to always believe I was.