Goodbye, Sweet Cooper

I knew B hadn't gotten much sleep. I helped her a couple of times during the night, and by early morning a thick fog had rolled in. Around 8:00, I helped get Cooper settled again and hoped the two of them could catch a little more rest while I quietly perused Instagram. Before long it was time to move Cooper downstairs to his bed on the main floor. B had a shower, made us coffees, and made the arrangements to ease Cooper's worries and stress from this unbelievable injury later to day. Once we got everything together, we loaded him up and headed south just after 11:00.

S had driven the tractor into town that morning to have the air-conditioning leak checked, so we stopped there first. He drove us back to the ranch while B climbed into the back seat with her boy. Once home, we settled Cooper on Harley's big cushion beneath the apple trees. I picked fresh strawberries for all of us and tossed Roo her hay. B lay beside Cooper in the dappled sunshine, simply soaking in his favourite place. We wanted his last day to be spent doing the things he loved most.

S had some lunch while B and I moved Cooper inside to cool off in the air conditioning. They rested while I drove S back to town to pick up the supposedly repaired tractor. I made a quick stop at the dollar store hoping to find an ink pad for paw prints, but had no luck.

Back at the ranch I was greeted by a huge dragonfly at the gate—the first one I'd seen this year. It felt like a quiet sign from Heaven and brought me a surprising sense of comfort. Thanks to paint supplies from Kaylin’s youth, B and I were able to make Cooper's paw prints in a couple color variations.

S returned with the tractor, hooked up the rake, and got to work. Shaina, Kaylin, and Renn FaceTimed B and Cooper before we loaded him into the wagon for one last long stroll. We walked down to the gate, around the yard, through the barn, and stopped so he could watch S raking hay for a while. Afterwards, we parked him up on the deck in the beautiful sunshine.

From there Cooper had a view of the horses, the pasture, and the ranch he loved so much. Stretched out on his cozy bed, B never left his side. She cuddled him, told him stories, thanked him, and reminded him over and over what a good boy he was. I sat nearby on the deck with Harley, working on Saturday's blog because I was so far behind, but my heart wasn't in the writing. It was with Cooper.

Just before 4:00, B's coworker, a veterinarian, arrived. She spent a few quiet moments visiting with B and Cooper before helping him peacefully cross the Rainbow Bridge at 4:06 p.m.

No matter how many times we go through it, saying goodbye to a beloved pet never gets easier. For B, Cooper wasn't just her dog. For nearly nine years he was her constant companion, her shadow, her plus-one through every chapter of life. Through the good days and the hard ones, he was always right beside her—quite literally. A piece of her heart went with him that afternoon, and another piece of Cooper will stay in hers forever.

As if the day itself knew, dark clouds gathered in the west and the temperature began to fall after reaching 28°C. We carried Cooper inside where B stayed with him, quietly loving him until the very end. Soon the lady from the pet memorial service arrived. She gently walked B through the choices for his urn and memorial keepsakes before carefully taking Cooper with her.

A light rain finally fell—only 0.01 inches—but it was enough to stop the haying.

I put ribs on for supper so B and I would at least have something to eat today. S came in after only getting one bale rolled before the rain stopped him. The tractor's air-conditioning leak still hadn't been fixed, which was another disappointment. He changed clothes, had some veggies and hummus—which I encouraged B to eat too—then headed off to his rodeo meeting. Before he left, the sun came back out, shining as beautifully as it had earlier in the day.

After supper B headed home to decompress and spend some quiet time with Gulliver.

I carried on with another load of laundry, watered the houseplants, then finally sat down at the island with the rodeo playing quietly in the background to write this heartbreaking post.

Once the bull riding was over, the blog was finished, another load of laundry was switched, and Harley had been fed, I headed to bed feeling incredibly sad. Before turning out the lights, I put together a small Instagram reel using just a handful of the many photos of Cooper on my phone. It was a little tribute for such a special boy. I watched a little more Prime before finally shutting everything down.

Cooper's sunset <3

The lights were already out before S got home just before 11:00.

One long, heartbreaking day had finally come to a close.