About Cody

I started writing this on Monday. I wanted to point to pictures of our boy-dog, but discovered that Google wasn't finding all the Cody-pages. Then I had to find out why...so I've been "geeking" it for a few days. The result is a page of Cody pictures, while I redesign my photo pages template.

Before continuing, I want to thank everyone of you who sent your kind words of comfort to us. I have been remiss and not responded personally, but please know that every note is greatly appreciated.


About Cody

At 8pm the house is quiet now because, our canine dinner alarm is now at rest.

I just want to tell a bit about our little dog so you will know why he was so loved.

When Rosie, our well-behaved (mostly) girl became destructo-dog, we knew that she was lost when Stanley died, so we set out to find her a companion. That was in May 1995. In the back of a pen outside the Cupertino, CA Petco store, a small black dog looked demurely at us. That was the first of his acts. Rosie was indifferent to him (as as opposed to full rejection of the other dogs we'd brought out) so we signed the papers with NARF (Nike Animal Rescue Foundation) and he was ours...well sort of.

We took them both to Tom's nearby office and the fun began. Instead of being the quiet shy little dog in the pen, he became a wild dog running around the office with wild abandon making small "ruff-ruff" noises. Then he stopped and looked up at me and stared—something he'd do for a while.

Cody had been surrendered to an animal shelter south of San Jose. We are convinced he was loved and given up only because of some significant change in life circumstances, because when we got him home, there was no question about whether or not he belonged on the sofa or slept on the bed. But he must have felt abandoned and wasn't fully trusting of these strange people who had brought him to their house. Still he sat with us on the sofa—albeit aloof.

In time, he adopted us and we learned that he liked to talk (helping previously quiet Rosie discover her voice). He imitated other species, like goat, snake and prairie dog. He was our little entertainer and lover dog. Once he made the decision he was ours and we were his, he was also snuggle-dog and spent much of his quiet time on my hip. He trained us well.
  

The dinner time bossiness began not-so-subtly when he would knock Tom's crossed leg off his knee. It evolved to trying to push him off the sofa by poking his nose under Tom's shirt, goosing him, then shoving his head behind Tom's back. Finally, he settled on a less strenuous method of barking as the dinner hour neared. This bossy-talk became his little trademark when he wanted to hurry us along. "No, you don't need to wait till Mandy comes in. It's cookie-time now."

As with many small dogs Cody was a big dog in a little body. The difference was that he really was "large" weighing in at 21 lbs in a frame that visually was 12 lbs. But his bravado was usually limited to protecting the house looking out from the comfort of the upstairs bedroom window in San Jose, or landing on the stairs in West Linn. Pure entertainment.

In the 12 years he was with us, Cody never bit a thing. He never growled (except at those who dared to encroach on his house). He only doled out single kisses to those he loved. He would talk to us when we got home from work to tell us about his day (or maybe tattle on Mandy) and that was reserved only for us, and ultimately dog sitter extraordinaire, Jane.

We are missing our dinner alarm and hip-pillow, and bed warmer. We are missing the little dog who brought so much into our lives, but his memory will live on in our hearts.

The Cody picture page is here.