Kobe came into my life fourteen years ago, as a tiny puppy, only six weeks old. Even then, you could tell he would never really grow into those enormous ears. But one look into those soulful eyes, and I was smitten. My Mother’s Day gift that year, he became my “second child” and truly a part of my family.
Last night, I said a final good-bye to my “Kobe-Bobe-Boy” when he didn’t wake from his late afternoon nap. This morning, on what would have been his 14th birthday I awoke to an emptiness in my home, and in my heart.
Kobe went to work with me everyday for the first two years of his life. A friend asked me why he stopped going to work with me, and I had to laugh because it took me two years to realize that he was terrified of riding in the car! Or maybe it was over time that his fear developed, like his thunderstorm phobia….cropping up sometime around the age of four or five. Despite his fears, this little dog had the biggest of hearts. Always at my side at the end of my long days at work, he’d hop up on the couch to lie alongside me until the leap became too difficult in the past few years. A sweet and loyal dog, Kobe was unconditional love brought to life.
As I mourn the loss of my friend, I will also try to celebrate his life through memories of playing hide-and-seek with the “stinky rabbit”—his beloved toy that no other toy could replace; of the way he would bark to show his protective side if there was a knock at the door when I was home—for if he was home alone, and you knocked and banged, not a peep would come out of him! He will always be loved, always be remembered, and can never be replaced.