My CoCo
Not long after Cookie died, my mother decided to get a new dog. I was home at the time- it was the week when I was in transition from Aquinas to Mercy. She called and mentioned something about Lollipop Farm (a local pound), but "not adopting a dog today". I decided to go with her.
I hadn't been out to Lollipop Farm since I was a kid. It's pretty nice, for a pound. Mom said she wanted a small dog, something she could pick up when it got old. She hated seeing Cookie agonize about going up and down the steps when she (Cookie) couldn't walk. She also didn't want a dog that was too old because she was afraid to get attached and have it die right away.
We walked up and down the row of dog kettles for an hour. I talked her out of a wiener dog because I think they are mean. There was another dog she liked, but it was 10 years old. Then we saw a fluffy small white dog.
The dog was going out for a walk on a leash. Mom decided to wait for it to come back. She inquired at the desk about the dog and found out it is a purebred American Eskimo dog. When the dog came back, we went into a room with a handler and the dog for 20 minutes to "get acquainted". I felt like we had to take the dog on a date-- maybe take it up to Starbucks for a frappaccino, go for a walk on the pier...
The dog seemed fond of my mother, my brother and sister. Against her initial intentions, my mother put down money on the dog. The dog had to be fixed, so she couldn't pick her up until the next day.
My mother seemed impressed that the dog came with papers. According to the papers, the dog's father is "Jack Frost" and its mother is "Stardust".
On the way home, we had to think of names for the dog. I suggested CoCo, like CoCo Chanel, because she seemed like a poofy, frilly thing, especially with a pedigree. The name stuck.
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CoCo's lived with Marlene for a few months now. My mother says that she is a pig. She (the dog) has eaten a whole pan of brownies that Katie left on the table, as well as a roll of paper towels. When I come over, the dog barks at me. I can hear her start when my car pulls into the driveway. As I walk into the house, she barks furiously and then hides behind my mom. My mom tells her to shut up.
When I went over my mother's yesterday to pick up a coupon for yarn, I stood in front of the dining room window and watched CoCo freak out. She barked and barked. I waved. I saw the dog's head turn; someone was yelling at her.
I went around to the back door. As I walked into the kitchen, CoCo started barking and then ran behind my mother's legs, peering at me from behind.
"I championed for you to leave the pound. Why do you bark at me?" I asked the dog.
"Because she's a dickhead," my mother said. "Shut up, Dickhead," she scolded the dog.
Now what's strange about this is that I have never heard my mother use the word "dickhead". She kept telling the dog, "Shut up, Dickhead." It's like she just learned a new swear word. I wonder if she will start dropping it in conversation so people know how cool she is.
