Saving Coco

Saving Coco

By Ann Wilmer-Lasky

    

     Just when you think the world has gone to hell in a handbasket, you run into a group of very special people whose greater purpose in life seems to be to make one little corner of the universe more bearable.

     I have been privileged to be a small part of that group. Although it may never show up on anyone's radar of events, Saving Coco deserves its place in the cosmos.

     Coco, a tiny, not quite year-old Chihuahua cross, appeared on the Roswell Urgent Needs At Animal Control Facebook page. Her time had run out, she was about to be put to sleep, euthanized—certainly more gentle ways of saying she was a stray that nobody wanted, so she was going to be killed, thrown away as a part of our so disposable society. It's so difficult to conceive of something as loving and lively as Coco as ultimately being considered garbage—something we think no more of than being landfill fodder.

     

 Well, let me tell you, this perfect bright, little baby with the perfect giant stand-up ears and the profile of a Great Dane (although a tiny little Chihuahua version) did not deserve to die. Her loving heart deserved love in return. She deserved to finish growing up and chase balls and chew on squeaky toys and make someone's life brighter, just by being a part of it. Now, she will have that chance.

     Due to the compassion and dedication of individuals from as far away as Belgium, and from Roswell all the way to Florida, this beautiful little, loving dog has been given the chance to spread her own kind of love and joy. Here's Coco's story:

     Chez Nany, a lady in Belgium saw Coco's picture—a portrait of pure dejection—and read about her impending doom on Roswell's Urgent Needs Animals page. She found a woman in Florida who wanted to adopt Coco.

     Now, how do you make that happen half-a-world and half-a-continent away for a tiny little six-pound dog with no resources and no hope? You tap into a network of dedicated, compassionate people who know how to make things happen.

     Some friend somewhere between Belgium and Florida was friends with my very good friend, Alice Duncan, an author who lives here in Roswell. Knowing that Alice is also a part of New Mexico Dachshund Rescue, she felt Alice might be able to retrieve the dog from Animal Control, where she was scheduled to be put down the very next day. (True, Coco is a Chihuahua cross and not a Dachshund, but compassion knows no breed boundaries.)

     Although Alice was already fostering three homeless Doxies, along with her own brood of pampered canines, she agreed to help. She volunteered to pick Coco up from Animal Control and enlisted my help to provide foster care for her until arrangements could be made to somehow transport her from Roswell to Florida, a distance of over 1,600 miles as the car drives.

     By the way, the next day, after Coco was plucked from Animal Control, seventeen dogs were euthanized. She would have been the eighteenth. This is a terrible statistic, one that unfortunately is repeated over and over all across this country, but that is another story. One that Coco, thankfully, was saved from being a part of.

     Coco fit right in with my husband and me and our two rescued Dachshunds, Bruce and Chuck, saved about a year and a half ago from that very same Animal Control shelter. (They do try, really, to find them homes, but they are overwhelmed by the sheer numbers of abandoned and unwanted dogs and cats in this area—a dilemma that, as I said, is repeated over and over everywhere I know of.)

     But I digress. Through the kindness and generosity of caring people across this country—friends, both known and unknown to us—Alice and I were able to take Coco to our wonderful local veterinarians, Drs. Smith and Wenner, who offered us a discount and Coco a thorough examination and her shots, and yes, spayed her. None of us will ever knowingly contribute to the population of unwanted and abandoned animals.

     After she soaked up the vets' loving care and the attentions of their wonderful staff, she came back to us to recover and get ready for her journey.

     Coco recovered rapidly. She set about chasing balls and bringing them back to drop at our feet.  She took easily to squeaking her toys and tossing them into the air. She would grab a stuffed 'thing' almost as big as she was, (she weighed a little over six pounds when we got her) and shake it about and proudly prance around the yard with it.

     She had a voracious appetite and refused nothing we offered her. (She weighs just over seven pounds now and has a few more to go before you won't be able to feel her backbone.)

     She took to snuggling up with Bruce and Chuck in the middle of our queen-sized bed. My husband Barry and I were allowed to sleep on the edges of it. After all, we needed to keep them warm. (Big smiley face goes here.)

     

 In the early mornings, she would go out with my husband and help him feed the birds. Of course, the two of them stayed out and played a little catch before breakfast, while Bruce and Chuck and I slept in. (Another smiley face belongs here.)

     And so, Coco lived with us, while behind the scenes, efforts were made to move her from Roswell (which lies in the middle of nowhere) to her pending forever home in Florida, where her new forever mom Caci waited anxiously for her.

     It took about a month, all told, to arrange for her transport—a daunting challenge undertaken by a fantastic group I learned of through contact with their trip coordinator, Julie, called Kindred Hearts Transport Connection, a network of caring people willing to donate their time and resources to move animals such as Coco (as well as Heaven and Earth to do so) to their new forever homes.

     So, three days ago, Alice and I drove Coco (and her acquired toys and all the paraphernalia befitting a traveling princess) to the Roswell Airport, where we met a wonderful pilot named Jim, who flew to Roswell for the express purpose of transporting Coco to Dallas/Ft. Worth, where she was to be housed overnight and then transported by cars (many cars) on a journey with as many lega as a centipede. (a little exaggeration here) and that spans four days time.

     As all goes well, she will arrive at her forever home on Sunday, having touched many lives and having shared her love and her love of life with all of them.

     We wish Coco and her new mama, Caci, all the happiness being alive can bring. We will miss her terribly. (We already do!) My husband now wants to adopt a replacement for her, but really, she would be hard to replace—perfection usually is. I would prefer to keep a spot open to help other animals in need.

     My heart follows Coco to her new home. I only wish I could shake hands and personally thank all the wonderful people who have had a part in this amazing undertaking. I assure you, Coco thanks you all from the bottom of her huge (though tiny in size) and loving heart.