Cochise: The Best Dog there Ever Was

Posted by David J. Shestokas Jul 3, 2009

Just about everyone thinks their dog is the best dog in the whole world. I won’t try to talk them out of that belief; it’s just that they did not have the blessing of knowing our dog, Cochise.

There have been many dogs that have come through our family’s life. The following thoughts about Cochise are not meant in any way to diminish memories of Flip, DJ, Auggie, Ali, or Digger, nor slight the dogs still a part of our family, Clyde and Daisy. These dogs all have their own personality and qualities that endear them to us, but Cochise was different.

Cochise’s story is the story of our family for the last 15½ years. Not in the sense of the misadventures of Marley and Me. Cochise never had trouble causing adventures, except perhaps her efforts at befriending skunks.

She was there to greet new grandchildren, participate in Christmas and birthdays, and visit with the guests at graduation, engagement and first communion parties. She was there for all the highlights and she was there for just the regular days, and she made the regular days special.

In late 1993, my wife and I agreed that it would be great to have a dog. Now Elaine is not one that makes decisions lightly, and she researches things a great deal. Once we decided to have a dog, she read everything she could about them and what qualities she would want in a dog.

Her research led her to a breed I had never heard of, the German shorthaired pointer. The American Kennel Club says this about the breed:

“The German Shorthaired Pointer thrives as part of an active family. He is an even-tempered, intelligent and loyal family watchdog that has enthusiasm for its work. An athlete, he can adapt to his living situation, but requires consistent exercise. … Grace of outline, clean-cut head, sloping shoulders, deep chest, powerful back, strong quarters, good bone composition, adequate muscle, well carried tail and taut coat produce a look of nobility. … The overall picture which is created in the observer’s eye is that of an aristocratic, well balanced, symmetrical animal with conformation indicating power, endurance and agility and a look of intelligence and animation.”

Well, that and other descriptions of the breed’s gentle disposition sent her on a search to find such an animal. As luck would have it, a local newspaper ad soon thereafter indicated a litter of shorthair pups that was located just a few miles from our home. They were born on February 13, 1994, the day before Valentine’s Day.

Elaine called and made an appointment to see the pups. There were seven. When we went to see them they were all cuddled up with their mother. We neared the new family and both crouched down to get a better look, yet trying not to disturb the group. The puppy who was to become Cochise looked up from the crowd and saw us.

While the other pups also seemed to look, they stayed with their family group. This puppy got up and came to visit us. It was mutual love at first sight. We are fond of saying that we did not choose Cochise, but rather she chose us.

We eventually approached and interacted with the other pups, but there really was no need, the puppy that had come to us had all ready won our hearts.

She stayed with her birth family until early April, and received top notch care from the couple in whose home she was born. When she did come home they presented us with a stuffed dog bone that has pictures of Cochise’s mother and father on each end and inscribed with her birthday. She came from a loving home.

In April of 1994, my mother and father were living with us. They had sold their home and their new home was not yet ready. This was to be a recurring family happening through the years. We were blessed to be able to open our home to family members in transition over the years. They were blessed because they got to know and love Cochise.

There is some controversy over how Cochise was named, but it took nearly six weeks to come up with something proper. Her liver and white spotted coat was reminiscent of an Indian pinto pony. She did, even as a puppy, have a sense of nobility and aristocracy about her. Naming her after the great Apache leader now seems the only thing that could have happened. She was a hunter with a gentle soul.

At any rate, we have a large backyard that backs up to an electrical power line right of way, on the other side of which is a golf course. My Dad was an avid golfer, and even when not golfing, he loved all things golf.

Many golf balls went astray in the field behind our home, and Dad and Cochise would take long walks in that field. Somehow she sensed that golf balls were a thing of value to him. She was still a very young puppy, with no training whatever, but she would track down golf balls in the brush and the bushes and bring them to Dad. Over the years that ability to know things would demonstrate itself again and again.

She was always friendly with other people and animals. She had her pointer instincts that would lead her to trees occupied by birds and squirrels, but she did not chase other animals, she approached them. When she looked up in a tree, she had a plaintive look, inviting the object of her interest to come down and visit. This affinity for friendship most likely caused the only misadventures she had.

The large field behind the house is home to a variety of wildlife, and Cochise wanted to befriend all creatures. She would peer into the homes of groundhogs, squirrels and snakes. She would sometimes paw at these holes, sort of like knocking on the door. She never dug furiously, but rather gently scraped at the ground.

While no one ever saw her encounter a skunk, we always were aware of the aftermath. It would usually be in the springtime when the skunks were nesting. She would come home with the unmistakable aroma. As this happened in the spring one can only imagine Cochise pawing gently at the nest, inquiring if she could visit the new born skunks. She meant no harm, but the momma skunk no doubt did not see it that way.

Cochise did not enjoy her bath in tomato juice that followed these encounters, but submitted with her usual equanimity. It seemed as though she thought the bath a small price to pay for trying to make friends.

She had the speed and grace of an athlete that the Kennel Club refers to. As she grew she took great joy in retrieving thrown balls and catching flying Frisbees. As someone would prepare to throw she would gauge the direction of the arm swing and take off before the ball or Frisbee was released. It seemed impossible to out throw her speed and anticipation.

There were times when she would make a spectacular over the shoulder catch much like Willie Mays in the 1954 World Series.

We took to using tennis rackets to make the endeavor a challenge for her. Use of the racket would send the ball beyond her and into the bushes and field. She nevertheless had seen the flight and would hunt through the brush whatever time it took to return with the ball.

The same situation took place with Frisbees. It seemed impossible to challenge her ability. Our son Matt had taken up Frisbee golf, and had special disks that could travel great distances. With Matt’s skill and these special disks, he could out throw Cochise’s speed, but she still would track the disk down wherever it had flown.

Those are “dog” things that provided joy and companionship, but they are not the essence of Cochise. Her essence was revealed in how she related to the grandchildren as they came into our lives.

Over the years, all families have transitions. Ours had as many as most, and from time to time as our children found themselves changing jobs, moving to new homes or renovating a current home we opened our home to them. At various times they came and stayed, along with their young and in some cases new born children. These times were a blessing for so many reasons, in particular the chance to bond with the grandchildren in a very special way.

People track a child’s language skills and try to remember the first recognizable words they hear from a child. My personal memory of the first word I could understand from our youngest grandson, Wyatt, was “chise”, talking about our dog.

Many dogs are territorial and treat children with a certain disdain as if they were intruding upon both the dog’s space or as competitors for attention. This was not the case with Cochise. For a variety of reasons, all four of our grandchildren spent many of their earliest days living in our home.

Far from treating the children as intruders, Cochise welcomed the new family members, and seemed happy to have buddies that were her size. She was gentle with them, and invited them to play, and never troubled when they climbed on her back or tugged her ears.

It became a tradition to blow up a large blue mattress, known as the big blue bed, for the children to watch television and eat popcorn. Cochise loved these times, since she early on acquiesced to not getting on couches or beds, though she had the physical ability to do so. When the big blue bed was on the floor, she could get on it and curl up with her family.

She liked popcorn, and she loved getting on the bed, but she was still polite and mannered. When there would be a group on the bed she would sit quietly in the room, looking with a sense of yearning to be invited upon the bed.

After a period of time, if there was no invitation forthcoming, she did not whine or bark. She would lift her right paw and gently rub the edge of the bed, asking for permission to join. When the permission came, either in the form of a pat on the bed or a verbal invitation, she would get gently on the bed and curl up with her family.

We often believed that Cochise could understand English. She had no special training in any sense, she was just around the family, as she loved to be. She loved McDonald’s sausage biscuits and would prepare to leave whenever she heard someone say McDonald’s. If either a ball or Frisbee was laying in the yard, and you asked her to find one or the other, in no special tone, she would return with the one you had asked for.

Matt is fond of telling a story. Cochise was near him and making a request of some type. Matt said to her, “If you don’t stop, I am going to step on your foot”. In response to that Cochise lifted her paw up and out of potential harms way.

We would talk to her as if she understood, and she so often seemed to do so, but she understood more than words, she understood actions and feelings. She knew when suitcases were being packed and would always stay especially close at those times, not wanting to be left behind. When tears came in life as they inevitably do, she would stay closest to whoever was distressed. You could talk with her about life, have an attentive ear, and sometimes feel like there were answers.

Elaine is fond of saying that when you looked into Cochise’s eyes you could see something special, that it felt like there was wisdom inside her. She always had a peace about her that was contagious, and could help you achieve peace during troubled times.

In the last few years, as family members became more established in their own homes and lives, Cochise did not always have the company she thrived upon. To her great benefit, our son’s dog, Digger came to stay with us. Despite differing breeds, and differing personalities, they became the best of pals.

Digger was six months older than Cochise and an American Staffordshire Terrier, sort of a mini pit bull. She was a good dog, and a great companion for Cochise. They slept together, ate together and went out together. It was interesting to watch that relationship grow.

Cochise was a hunter and retriever by nature, as Elaine likes to say, a working dog. Digger was not quite so full of energy, and had little interest in bringing back a ball or a stick. With those powerful jaws, she would just as soon chew up a Frisbee as bring it back to you.

She had grown up with Matt while he was in college and Digger always seemed to maintain the mentality of a college student. I am sure if she would have been able Digger would have wiled away her days playing video games.

As Digger and Cochise lived together, they began to teach each other things. Apparently Digger saw how Cochise took such great joy in chasing and returning balls that Digger began to chase them as well, and after a while even began to bring them back, though never with the same fervor as Cochise.

Since Cochise was always much faster than Digger, if a single ball was thrown, Digger would make a half hearted effort to go after the ball and see that she had no chance to get there. It would be a competition she would never win, so why play. In order to have Digger participate, it became necessary to throw one ball long and far, and after Cochise had taken off, throw another ball short and soft. Digger would get the second ball, and return about the same time as the much faster Cochise.

Cochise loved to spend hours outdoors and frequently did so, checking everything her curiosity led her to check. Digger was less curious, often more business like and would wish to return much sooner. There is a small deck outside the master bed room that has a sliding screen door.

Before Digger’s arrival to live with us permanently when Cochise wished to come back in the house, she would sit on the deck by the screen door and patiently wait for someone to come and open the door. Digger had no such patience.

Digger actually figured out how to use her nose to slide open the screen door. The first few times were an amazement, as she had opened the door, came in the house and lay down on her bed. No one had opened the door, and questions arose as to who left the door open allowing insects to fly in. Digger never did close the door behind her.

Eventually we saw her do this, and at times she opened the door for both herself and Cochise, who would continue to wait patiently until Digger let them both inside. Over time Cochise had watched Digger do this often enough that she figured it out for herself. Cochise was probably 11 or 12 at the time. Who says you can’t teach an old dog new tricks. Perhaps you cannot, but certainly her best pal can.

They became fast friends. Digger was about six months older than Cochise, and last fall, her age caught up with her, and Cochise lost her best pal. It was apparent Cochise kept looking for Digger’s return, and missed her greatly.

Around Thanksgiving Cochise began to eat less and sleep more. Her eyesight and hearing were failing her. She had developed arthritis. We gave her motrin with peanut butter and Elaine went to great lengths to prepare her special meals of ground beef and rice. She seemed to perk up, and I looked forward to the spring time, hoping the good weather would improve her health and spirit, primarily her health.

Her spirit never really left her in many ways. She still longed to be close to her family. She still would search for a ball. When she was close to you, she would see the arm swing and try to anticipate the throw, but she could not follow the flight. It did not stop her from trying to track the ball though.

Even if she did not see the flight, she knew it had to be somewhere reasonably close. You could watch her search the yard in a grid pattern, criss crossing in a deliberate fashion until she tracked down the ball. She had not seen it originally, but figured out a way to compensate for her failing senses. She still would run, but it was a light jog compensating for her arthritis.

Due to so many circumstances she was alone a lot. I tried to take her to work with me when I could. She would gamely get into the car and stick close when I was in the office. Despite so many things she had not lost the desire to be with family or to meet new people.

Sometimes I have to take bulk mail to the post office. This is delivered to a private entrance in back. Cochise came with me recently, and I rang the bell to be let in. She sat in the car, and the postal worker admired her. Cochise was soon inside the post office, wandering around, making friends with everyone there. She was instantly described as beautiful by those meeting her, as she had been all her life. Her tail was wagging as best she could to let people know she was glad to be there.

Later that day, I had a small errand to run for a cell phone repair. I parked in front of the store windows, and the same thing happened. She was invited into the store and greeted everyone with as much fervor as she could muster.

Over the last few months she had been unable to get comfortable and unable to sleep through the night. Though she understood so much, she had a hard time expressing her pain. Rather than nice warm weather, we experienced a cold, wet spring. I can only imagine the problems of Cochise’s arthritis.

On June 23, 2009, it became evident that there was an obligation to treat her with the dignity and respect that she had shown to us all during her life. Cochise and I shared a cheeseburger and went to visit my parents. Somehow she knew the people that had shared her earliest days and again exhibited the love and kindness that were her hallmarks.

It was a very warm sunny day. The kind I had hoped for many of in the fall. Cochise and I went for a walk in the field by the golf course behind our house that she loved so much. She jogged slightly ahead of me, but always turned around to see where I was at. While we walked her breathing became labored and her tongue was out. She could not tolerate the heat either.

We finished that walk and went into the air conditioning. I gave her some sherbert. I went to have the car cleaned and came back. Cochise and I went to the field again, but she had little enthusiasm for the heat, so we returned to the house.

She was rarely on a leash. Arriving at the vet’s I put a leash on her, and she reacted little. She never enjoyed going to the vet, and always knew the location when we got there, usually staining at the leash. This time she did not. She simply got out of the car, and walked in with me. It seemed as though she was ready.

Inside, the arrangements were made, and the vet’s staff are very special people. Cochise got on the scale and weighed 40.9 pounds. The price for the vet’s services and the private cremation was higher at 41 pounds. It seemed as though Cochise was thoughtful to the end.

Cochise and I went into the room she had been examined so many times before. She knew the room, but did not exhibit the usual distress at being there. The doctor asked if I wanted to stay. I said I could not leave her now.

I sat on the floor and held her in my arms. The doctor gave her an injection in her right hind leg. Cochise relaxed on my lap, but her breathing began to sound congested. The doctor returned with a stethoscope, and indicated there was still a heartbeat. A second injection was given and Cochise’s breathing smoothed out.

A few minutes later there was another check with the stethoscope. Her heart continued to beat. The doctor said something I will never forget:

“The ones that are loved the most never want to go.”

A third injection was given in her right front leg, and soon thereafter there was no heartbeat. The vet staff then left us alone. I sat on the floor with her for a while, thanking her for being with us and hoping she understood.

I got up and gently laid her on the steel table where she had been examined so many times. I opened her right eye and looked inside. She seemed to still have the wisdom that Elaine often talked about. I kissed her ear and said good bye.

The next morning I picked up my Mom and our granddaughter Allison for an airplane flight to meet up with Elaine. There with Allison was our daughter Donna and other granddaughter Isabelle. Isabelle was waiting for me at the end of the driveway.

I got out of the car and said nothing, but Isabelle ran to me, jumped up and hugged me with all her might. She and I started to cry and it seemed as though we should never let go. The same followed with Allison and Donna, and Mom and Dad. Allison and I tightly held hands for a long time on the airplane. The same scene took place with Elaine that evening. We all loved Cochise as she had loved us.

The day following I was in a continuing legal education class, that fortunately was about dealing with stress. The presenter quoted a poem from the 13^th century that I took comfort in. It was written in 1230 by Mewlana Jalaluddin Rumi. It is entitled the Guest House.